


Uncharted Waters

by UnholyHelbig



Category: Legacies (TV 2018), The Originals (TV), The Vampire Diaries (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - High School, Alternate Universe - Lifeguards, F/F, High School, Lifeguards
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-04-05
Updated: 2020-08-07
Packaged: 2021-03-01 03:21:07
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 10
Words: 23,035
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23488243
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/UnholyHelbig/pseuds/UnholyHelbig
Summary: The bane of Lizzie Saltzman's existence is Hope Mikaelson, the daughter of a strange family that seems to have a hold on everything in their small Virginia town. When Hope swoops in to save the day at their shared job at an amusement park, Lizzie starts to realize just how odd the Mikaelson's are.[This is a continuation of two previous one-shots published elsewhere!]
Relationships: Hope Mikaelson & Lizzie Saltzman, Hope Mikaelson/Lizzie Saltzman, Jade & Josie Saltzman, Jade/Josie Saltzman
Comments: 71
Kudos: 212





	1. Chapter 1

**The day held** a soft golden hue to it, spilling onto the scalding cement and glinting expertly against the choppy artificial waves that started at one end of the pool and pushed to the section that Lizzie was stationed at. She had the liberty of a sun-stained umbrella and a bout of shade that did nothing to quell the heat of the summer wind.

Cool Waves Summer Adventure Park was the bane of her existence. For the cheap wage of seven dollars an hour she would rise before the sun and leave when the night was finally cooling off. Everything smelled like cheap spray tan and sunscreen, and the occasional puddle of vomit. But her father insisted that she keep the position as a lifeguard if she wanted to keep that nice 1969 Chevy Camaro that a family friend had given her.

So she sat at the far end of the pool, day in and day out, watching for lazy parents that tip too far on the rafts, or for their demon kids who would drink the chlorine infused water. Occasionally she would have days like this; where it was crowded and the sun was more irritating than anything.

“Sir I don’t know how to explain this to you in any other way. The coupon you have isn’t even for _our_ park. I couldn’t give you half-off at the snack shack even if I wanted to.”

If the customer in front of her wasn’t already sunburnt, she could see his bald head shifting through three shades of red. He frowned and removed his sunglasses because maybe that would make him look more intimidating, but really it just paid tribute to how many times he had fallen asleep by the side of the ocean. He had the measly paper clenched between his fist.

“Maybe if you went to the snack shack, they could help.” She tried weakly. It was dirty, she knew, pushing the disgruntled father off towards another department. But she was a lifeguard and nowhere near the food stand. “I’m sure they could give you something.”

He sputtered, not happy with the answer. “I want to talk to your supervisor, Josie.”

She glanced down at the white logoed shirt that hugged her closely, damp with sweat. He had used her name to drive a point, but she had grabbed the wrong nametag this morning on her way out the door. Another misstep that she would have to make up to her sister somehow in the next few days.

Lizzie opened her mouth to respond but halted to a stop when the sharp cut of a whistle captured both of their attentions. It wasn’t Lizzie’s hers still hung lazily around her neck, collecting heat like a beacon.

It was easy to spot an accident, she learned that her fourth day on the job when part of the Black Vulture came loose and the large waterslide was shut down faster than an ambulance could arrive to haul away the kid who got a few bruises.

People tended to clear and gawk instead of doing what they could to help. Right now there was a steady circle in the middle of the water and something, someone, thrashing around in the deeper end of the pool. Lizzie could feel her heart in her chest and suddenly didn’t care much about arguing with a disgruntled patron.

She moved quickly past the umbrella, and the chair, shoving both of her hands against the large red button that screamed: IN CASE OF EMERGENCY. It didn’t do much of course, but it did bring the motor that created waves in the pool to a screeching halt. They had never used it before.

And then there was the girl, the one who blew the whistle in the first place. Hope Mikaelson didn’t bother shedding away her shirt or pulling the walkie-talkie from the waistband of her annoyingly tight shorts. Instead, she jumped into the pool with expert speed and precision.

Lizzie rushed down the cement steps, hand running across the scalding metal railing. “10-10 wave pool.” She knew her words were breathy over the radio, and she knew even more than that, that this wasn’t just a possible drowning. It was laid out clear and plain in front of her but her scrambled mind couldn’t get a grasp on the correct code.

Hope had pulled the young girl from the far end of the pool and onto the edge by the time that Lizzie had gotten there. They were both dripping and she had linked her hands together, placing them in the center of the young girl's chest, lips blue.

“Where the hell were you?” Hope snarled, squaring her shoulders and applying pressure in intervals. Her mouth moved while she counted before she said: “ _Help_ me, Saltzman.”

Lizzie didn’t need to be told twice. She was careful, listening to Hope count out the last five intervals before she lilted the girls chin up and blew just enough air into her lungs to push them outwards. She did this twice before Hope started pressing against her chest again.

Everything had slowed and by the time Hope alerted her of her position, Lizzie was ready to lean forward again. The girl coughed violently, a mix of bile and water pushed from her lips and a healthy dose of color returned to her cheeks.

“Stand back, both of you” Lizzie was shoved to a standing position as the real medical team got there, heeding her shout over the radio. The on-call medic pressed two gloved fingers to the edge of the girls throat for a pulse, despite her lucidity. “It’s a good thing you were here.”

“Where else would I be?” Hope asked, her words dripped of acid and her stare burned like a flame. Lizzie frowned.

“That’s not fair, I was dealing with another situation.”

“Yeah, so was I but I always keep on eye on the pool, Lizzie. That’s basic lifeguarding.” Hope started to walk to the main office shoving past her, shoulder wet and cold as she dripped onto the dry pavement. “Get it together.”

Lizzie wanted to call after her just like she had wanted to rip that guy's coupon to shreds and push him into the shallow end. But she bit her tongue until she could taste blood again before turning her attention back to the medic and the young girl who sat at the edge of the still water.

 **“You were really** lucky that Hope was there.” MG struggled with the combination of his lock. He had been at it for a good fifteen minutes, but with no luck. Lizzie considered the fact that he had the wrong locker altogether, but she resorted to pulling on a sweatshirt, not wanting to stare at that stupid logo of the penguin holding a beach ball anymore.

“But why was she there?” Lizzie asked, earning a patronizing stare. “Not that I’m not thankful. That girl is totally alive because of her. But last time I checked, the almighty Hope Mikaelson was stationed at Hurricane falls, all the way on the other end of the park.”

He pulled down on the lock one final time and it clicked open fluidly. “Yes! Alyssa said she wasn’t feeling well so she was going to take a break in the shade. Hope kind of blew up on her.”

“Yeah, me too.”

Lizzie let the conversation fizzle in the air as MG collected his stuff from the locker, shoving his car keys in the slim pockets of his shorts. Though she thought that the girl had a hero Complex, Hope was anything but violent. Never one with a short fuse and always liked by every single supervisor including Alyssa.

The two of them strolled out into the nearly desolate park, breathing in the hot air. It had cooled off significantly from the afternoon and the usually pitch-black path was lit by an oddly orange light, a curved half-moon in the sky.

“Would you look at that?” MG stared up at it and blinked “Kind of cool,”

Blood Moons weren’t cool, not the full ones anyway. Not in Lizzie Saltzman’s household. She wasn’t an expert in the supernatural by any means, but she had found enough old and dusty books in her mother’s stuff to know that the energy around them was anything but pleasant. That the world was better off forgetting anything like that existed in the first place.

Over the years she and Josie had tried to ask their parents about it, about the old stories and the reason they had all of that stuff in the first place but they were shut out each time. Because magic didn’t really exist, and neither did the creatures that basked in its light.

“Oh, shoot-“ Lizzie patted down her person, “I forgot my keys. Go on without me.”

MG hesitated, his features soft in the darkened crimson light. “You’re sure?”

She nodded, sure of herself. Nothing bad happened here, not this late at night when all the bloodthirsty tourists had retired for fancy dinners by the ocean’s edge. Even if something did happen, the park was littered with cameras, and she was confident.

Lizzie parted ways with him and the two of them walked in opposite directions. Him towards the parking lot and her towards the main building, filled with offices and the employee locker rooms, lined with metal and eerily silent at this time of night.

The air was thick and wet with steam and the scent of soap, unlike it had been moments ago. She felt sweat collect instantly against her skin. They had showers lining the far end, something that had never been converted from the park's original design. But no one ever used them.

Lizzie silently crept towards her locker and started to struggle with her combination just like MG had. Her fingers were shaking, and she was starting to think coming back here on her own was her worst idea yet. But finally, she got enough advantage to snatch them and closed it softly, turning, but halting.

Her body came in contact with another, so quiet and smelling fresh like lavender body wash. Not the usual chemical scent that they all carried home with them like a badge. She felt the soft edge of a towel under her fingertips and slammed her back against the cold metal of the lockers.

“Jesus Christ Hope, you scared the hell out of me!” Lizzie felt her heart in her throat once more but for a different reason than before. Not adrenaline, not fear- something else entirely that she couldn’t’ pinpoint.

Hope was wrapped tightly in a dark green towel, or maybe it was black, she couldn’t tell over the soft light that flooded the bathroom like split blood. It shaded the girls features, sharp and different. Her hair was damp.

“Oh?” She cocked a perfect brow “Should I start wearing a bell, Saltzman?”

“Yeah, maybe. What are you doing here so late anyway?”

Hope raked her gaze up and down Lizzie’s frame before landing back on her stare. “I could ask you the same question.”

“I forgot my keys.” She jingled them like a prize, swallowing the way her hair raised on end, goosebumps prickling. “Hey, I wanted to apologize about earlier today. It pains me to admit it, but you were right. I should have been paying more attention.”

The Mikaelson girl nodded thoughtfully and pulled the towel closer to her, suddenly moving an inch of a step back. Hope frowned and Lizzie couldn’t tell if it was about what she had said or the sudden loss of heat in the air. The light had shifted, hidden behind nothing but a wisp of a cloud.

“Uh, yeah.” Hope cleared her throat and blinked dumbly and took another step back. “Don’t worry about it. You should probably get home.”

Lizzie stared at the girl and the way she pulled into herself against the darkness of the locker room. It hung in the air and her fingers tightened against the edge of her keys. She knew she should wait for Hope, should offer her a ride home or politely walk her to her car- but she didn’t. Instead, she nodded slowly.

“See you tomorrow?”

Hope averted her stare, “yeah, sure thing.”


	2. Chapter 2

**Electronic music hissed** and pounded, the windows of the small house shaking with the tempo. Lizzie couldn’t bring herself to exit the car. Not with the group of people crowded on the front step, taking easy gulps of whatever cheap alcohol filled red plastic cups. With each wary glance towards the Chevy, she tightened her grip on the steering wheel.

Josie reached across her in a fluid motion, turning the key until the engine didn’t purr anymore. “People wouldn’t be staring if you turned off your headlights.”

“They’re staring because I almost let a kid drown.”

Lizzie kept her eyes forward. She was sure that she had the license plate of the car parked in front of them memorized. WTV-2869. It was an obnoxious shade of yellow that had once been white- _Virginia is for Lovers,_ it read, but she wasn’t feeling any of it. 

Kaleb was accustomed to throwing the end of the summer parties filled with alcohol and at least three bad decisions. It was a celebration of a good season and a flaunt of money that each of them had struggled to save up over the past three and a half months of being crammed in hot plastic chairs and mopping up fluids no one wanted to identify, not fully.

“That was almost a week ago, Lizzie.” Josie’s voice was tender and her fingers traced the seatbelt across her chest. She wanted to unclip it and pad up the front steps until she ran into the other girls that worked at the snack shack. All of them smelled like fried dough and artificial cheese but Lizzie never mentioned it. “I’m not saying you should get over it, it’s scary, I know. But no one else is holding it against you.”

Lizzie scrunched up her nose “Hope Mikaelson is, even though I apologized _and_ thanked her for saving my ass.”

She finally conceded after a pointed glare from her twin, because yes, she had been talking about it non-stop for the past couple of days. Lizzie couldn’t shake the odd feeling she got when they walked past each other at the park or ended up being the last two in the locker room again.

The auburn-haired girl had switched all of her shifts to early mornings and refused to make eye contact. Lizzie had the deep and running feeling that Hope Mikaelson was avoiding her like the black death- and the only explanation she could conjure up was a fit of running anger from her own lack of awareness when manning the wave pool.

Both girls exited the powder blue car and breathed in the last summer breeze the season had to offer. There was a hint of autumn in the air that made her want to fold into herself with a good book. The grass vibrated with the sound of the latest pop song, neon lights flashing against the dirty windows. Kaleb knew how to throw a party, and a small part of her admitted that.

Lizzie stopped short of the drive and blinked up at the blanket of stars. The moon, she had noticed, was finally at its full peak. It shone bright like a crimson ornament in the sky, hung expertly on the best branch.

“It’s kind of cool isn’t it?” Josie smiled softly, craning her neck “And spooky.”

Lizzie tore her gaze away and growled “I wish people would stop saying that. Come on, if I absolutely have to be here, I can’t do it sober.”

And maybe Josie was right; she didn’t’ feel the looming eyes of her coworkers prosecuting her for her mistakes. No one even dared a glance at the two of them, not right away. MG stood against the mantel with his own cup of mystery liquor, and he gave a slight dazzling wave.

The pungent scent of weed leaked from the upstairs floor and greasy pizza littered the granite countertops in the kitchen. A few lifeguards loitered by the fridge, laughing quietly about the Polaroid’s tacked up with alphabet magnets.

Lizzie wandered over to one of the counters and fished through the ice bucket filled with alcoholic lemonade and bud light. She opted for the off-silver can, pushing off the extra ice and water. She was content with a slight buzz and staying to herself in the corner, Josie rushed off once she found her usual shift leaders crowded around a table converted for beer pong.

Jed was lingering at the edge of his pack of friends, hand wrapped around a glass bottle and eyes flashing towards her every once and a while. Lizzie pretended not to notice and instead started to scroll through her camera roll like it was something more engaging, setting the nearly empty can on the counter. 

“Hi Liz,” He had moved closer, smelling of aftershave and sweat and whatever masculine scent his car had adopted. “I didn’t think you would show.”

Lizzie snapped her gaze up and shoved her phone in her pocket. “And why wouldn’t I?”

“You nearly let a kid die?” Kelsey had pushed herself close to the island in the middle of the kitchen, running a hand through dirty blonde hair that threatened to be greasy. She lifted the oil-stained lid of a pizza box before frowning and letting it fall back down. “I’m sure a party beats a jail cell.”

“Oh well, it’s never too late.”

She shoved herself from the counter, fully intent on joining MG next to the fireplace. Even if she did just stand there and listen to his off-handed conversation about who would best win in a fight between Superman and the Green Lantern. Jed took a step to block her path, giving a wolfish grin.

“Okay, Jockstrap, maybe you should get out of my way.” She knew her voice had gotten darker with the amount of patience she had left. People had never classified her as friendly, especially when she had a saint for a sister, but she had adopted the persona of intimidating.

Kelsey laughed, taking a long gulp of her own drink, “Sweetheart, we just want to know how on earth you even passed your entrance exam?”

Lizzie felt her nails dig into the palm of her hand because she knew she was a damn good lifeguard. She was human and she made mistakes, never had it been one that dire before and her mind was still grasping at that. She had studied for weeks and passed with flying colors- but she wasn’t about to give Jed or his little lackey the satisfaction of her fighting back.

“Leave the girl alone.”

Both lifeguards tore their predatory gazes away from Lizzie and situated them on the entrance of the kitchen; Hope Mikaelson seemed to stumble upon them, once again saving the day. Lizzie felt her blood boil because she had it handled. Much unlike the situation at the wave pool.

“Hope?” Jed had taken a half-step back “I didn’t’ think you were going to come tonight.”

“Funny, I was under the same impression.”

Kelsey swallowed loudly and lifted her chin in defeat, maybe even acknowledgment before the two of them stalked off and out of the kitchen entirely. Hope’s eyes were dark, darker than she had ever seen them before. Darker than that night in the locker room. She let out a sigh that was deep enough to echo a growl.

“I didn’t need your help.” Lizzie protested.

“Oh really? It seemed like you did. Jed and Kelsey would have eaten you alive, trust me.”

Hope turned away at once and left the kitchen through the hallway entrance. A small passage lined with photos of Kaleb’s family, one on the beach and two graduation shot’s. Lizzie pretended to ignore the fact that there was none of him. She followed her quickly.

“You can’t keep doing that.”

“Doing what?” Hope asked innocently.

“Swooping in like I’m some damsel in distress and you’re the hero that saves me from certain doom. I’ve got it covered, okay?” Lizzie reached forward and grasped at Hope’s wrist, trying to stop her halfway through the corridor.

Her back was suddenly against the drywall, the picture frames shaking at the strong impact. Though she had a few inches on Hope Mikaelson, she felt her heart rate spike. The other lifeguard had her pinned, a hand splayed next to her head and a dangerous hint in her stare.

“Don’t touch me, Saltzman. Not tonight.”

Lizzie gulped in the scent of vanilla and something metallic that she couldn’t’ place. Her voice came out a slight whisper and Hope’s impossible gaze flicked down to her lips. “What’s so different about tonight?” 

“Coming here was a mistake.”

Hope tore herself away from the situation and pushed towards the front door. Through a group of people too stubborn to move. Lizzie blinked twice and tried to clear her head of the intoxicating allure that she had never registered before. She followed her again, instant relief washing over her once she was away from the stuffy house.

Anger still bubbled like an unchecked stew. What Hope had just done was shockingly intimate and her skin tingled where her hands had all but lingered. She glanced up at the moon sparingly and padded onto the walk where she searched either direction, but no Hope.

A thicket of woods surrounded the back of Kaleb’s house and for some pulling reason, Lizzie decided to brave it. The neon light of her cellphone was enough to make up for what the Blood Moon didn’t- and really, it wasn’t so hard to move along the wet trees and the subtle sounds of crickets.

“Hope!” she called out, breaking the near silence.

Lizzie shouted out a few more times before she stumbled into a clearing surrounded by stars. The stretching grass reached her knees and swayed like a crimson ocean in the scattered light. A deep pit formed in the center of the blonde's stomach; because maybe this was a terrible idea. The hairs on her arms stood up at attention. She didn’t feel alone.

She scanned her eyes against the tree line as the wind picked up until they landed on a set of eyes. Too low to the ground to be human, glowing like the moon above as they bored into her. She had read somewhere that in the face of an animal you had to make yourself look bigger but all she wanted to do was shrink.

Lizzie was rooted in her spot, helpless as the creature slowly stalked from its home in the shadows. Large and black and bigger than any type of dog that she had spotted before. Its eyes were a dark red and a deep growl erupted from the wolf’s chest. Lizzie felt like her own was on fire.

Another, smaller wolf, that was spotted in gold followed, its stance strong and offensive. Now would be a good time for her to run, or to cry, she wasn’t sure which instinct would latch onto her first but with the way her eyes felt heavy she considered it was the latter.

“Good doggie,” Lizzie held her palms out and lowered them because she saw it in a Chris Pratt movie about dinosaurs once. But the animals kept approaching and her legs felt like Jell-O. “Nice doggie.”

The larger one snarled and crouched lower to the ground. Its tail tucked and nose crinkled, and suddenly it was increasing its speed. Lizzie dropped to her knees and clenched her eyes shut, and she waited for impact.

For the warmth of blood and the sound of her own screams. The thought of News Vans and police officers and yellow caution tape flashed in front of her instead of some poetic movie of the good parts of her life. Maybe they wouldn’t even find her body because it would be picked clean to the bone.

Instead, she breathed deep on the scent of soil as she felt it work its way under her nails. There was another noise, one that was louder than her own heart. A yelp of fear low enough to only come from the animal lunging at her.

She propped one eye open and saw the black wolf on its back, hissing out in what could only be described as palpable fear. The yellow one had its tail tucked and eyes averted, golden and flashing in the light of the moon.

Lizzie dug her heels into the dirt of the clearing and pushed herself back a couple of inches, propping up on her elbows. Another wolf, smaller than the black one and so gray it was almost white like snow, emitted a loud and commanding rumble.

She felt her hands dig right into the roots of the grass as if she gripped it for stability. The black wolf rose from its position and let out a huff of air before dashing back into the cover of the trees. Inky and all too consuming.

The newcomer sent out another warning growl before the second animal scampered away entirely. But Lizzie could still feel the fear in the air like electricity as the white wolf shot an accusing glare at her, leaking with the annoyance of something larger.

The hair on the wolf’s back suddenly smoothed out and its ears were flat, head dipping and brilliant golden eyes shrouded with worry.

Lizzie conjured her words “I’m okay. Thank you.”

She sat and stared at the creature for a long moment, feeling the sting where her palms had scraped against rocks and dirt. It cocked it’s large head to the side as if questioning her, and took a daring step forward.

“You’re not so scary, huh?” She leaned up a little bit and the wolf let out a huff of air as if to protest the statement. “Oh? And you can understand me too.”

Maybe this was a fever dream, she realized suddenly. She had fallen in the woods looking for Hope and had hit her head on a log or a rock. Someone would come looking for her eventually and she would wake up in a hospital bed with enough ammunition to get even with Hope Mikaelson for saving that kid.

“Lizzie!” The call of her sister broke the world that they were in and the wolf took a few ample steps back. Those brilliant marigold orbs scanning the tree line.

“Wait, don’t-“

But the wolf had already caught wind of the scent and was rushing in the opposite direction of the way it carried. Fluid and so strong in its motions that Lizzie was entirely sure that none of this could be real.

Her sister, covered in muck and dirt, sprouted through the trees, nearly falling over herself. Lizzie felt bad for the worry on her face and the pure fear that soon followed. “MG said he saw you run out of the house and go into the woods- what are you doing out here?”

“I needed some fresh air.” She didn’t even buy that.

“Then why are you on the ground?”

“Looking at the moon, you’re right. It is kind of cool.”

Josie suddenly got a pensive look on her face as she squinted at the apple-red color in the sky. She shook her head and reached a hand down to her sister, not minding the dirt or the possible blood that coated her own palm. She pulled her to her feet and glanced around apprehensively.

“Come on, it’s creepy out here and I’ve had enough excitement for one night.”

Lizzie didn’t’ answer, instead, she followed Josie and hoped that the shorter of the two knew where she was going. But her nerves eased as the electronic sound of the party's music started to fill her ears once more. She couldn’t help but agree;

This was too much excitement for one night.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you guys are coming from my oneshot book, thank you! And this is a brand new chapter. The rest of them will be too, so let me know what you think!

**Lizzie breathed in** the stale air that surrounded the attic. A bright sun had shown through the vaulted ceiling and highlighted the dust as it stirred from expertly marked boxes and a few pieces of old furniture. It was neat and clean and organized from when Josie and their mother spent a day last spring fixing it up.

At one point, Lizzie wanted to move up here and out of the room she shared with her sister. It was a bout of pointless freedom and their father decided quickly that he wasn’t going to be the one to run electricity up here so she could have some form of privacy. So she left it alone because it was easier than fighting everyone in the house about it.

She had lowered the ladder and silently wandered up the creaking steps. The wooden support beams hung low and made her crouch as she read the sharpie against cardboard. Lizzie had the slightest thought about finding exactly what she wanted up here and hoped her movement wouldn’t alert her parents.

Lizzie silently moved towards the far corner until she ran the palm of her hand over the expertly written label. _Bonnie,_ it read in big block letters that could only be her mother’s handwriting. She had only met her twice but each time she was too young to remember much. Lizzie leaned back and pulled the box to the center of the floor where she peeled the tape away from the opening.

She breathed deep on the musty scent of dust and orange, and maybe a little bit of sage. It was a comforting aroma, she decided, as she pulled out a few t-shirts. Her fingers brushed against a leather cover of a photo album.

Her mother smiled widely in most of the photos- next to someone she remembers as Bonnie Bennett. They looked happy, building a float for one of the extravagant parades the town threw every year to purge the memories of their wrongdoings. Another girl, Elena, she remembers from her mother's old stories- beamed along with them.

Lizzie traced her mother’s bright smile once more before shoving the book aside and digging a little further. The leather that her fingers touched next felt older and worn. A jolt of electricity moved through her fingers until it fizzled at her elbow. She recoiled.

Last night she had tossed and turned against a hot duvet, sweat pressing close to her skin. She had effectively downed a couple of glasses of water before she decided that she would search for those old books she remembered as a kid. The ones that she hadn’t seen since that day, and just like the wolves, she wasn’t entirely sure if they were real or not.

They lived in Virginia; surrounded by stretching fields and lush forests and the occasional dog that was bigger than average, but never like she saw last night. There were no wolves in Virginia, and that familiar gripping feeling of insanity started to pull at the back of Lizzie’s mind again.

The doctors’ appointments and the offices that smelled too much like antiseptic, littered with pictures of the beach or mountains, anything that was supposed to invoke some form of serenity. The leather couches that groaned each time she shifted in the stuffy room. The scratch of a pen against paper and the calming, yet condescending, way the therapist would speak to her.

No, Lizzie wasn’t crazy.

She had trouble processing the past, but none of that ever resulted in seeing large animals stalk towards her in the dead of night. Those glowing eyes stuck with her and she found herself staring out her window towards the spots where light hadn’t touched yet- looking for gold, or even that deep red that she saw each time she clenched her own eyes shut.

In any other circumstances, Lizzie Saltzman would not be up in a grimy attic when there was only a week left of summer vacation. She would be sunbathing in the backyard or licking at melted ice cream as it dripped down her arm in a sticky puddle.

Lizzie tried again; the leather still tingled under her grip but it was more manageable this time. It was large and clasped with copper, rusted until it was a washed green with specks of white. Inside the box, wrapped in another long piece of fabric. This book was smaller and the pages were yellow instead of white. Like it had been used more, hands turning eagerly at the stories trapped inside. 

Much to her fashion, she tackled this one first.

It had been hand bound and the ink that was once a vibrant black had faded to a soft brown. The handwriting was neat and her fingers ran over each letter of a thinly printed name; _Faith Parker._

Lizzie frowned down at the book and shoved the box away towards the side. She pressed her back close to a dusty old bin that was labeled for Christmas decorations, old lights, and a creepy wooden Santa that she refused to look into the eyes of.

_09 August, 1859_

_The sun has shone for the first time in over a week but it’s done nothing to curb the cold. Yet, Asa and Alexander crave to spend time outside. I equipped them with as many layers as I could before sending them out after Henry. I watch now as they follow him around obediently while he tends to the farm. They look so blissful in the sun, breath forming in clouds- and I want nothing more than to protect them for all eternity. Oh, how they grow closer to age, and how ever do I want to run away from fate._

Lizzie found herself glaring at the words and how horribly the pages had aged, being kept up here in the reaches of the attic. Lizzie breathed out, despite how it unsettled the coating of dust. Who was Faith Parker, and why on earth was her diary hidden away with baby clothes and power tools? 

“Liz!”

She blanched quickly; her mom’s voice carried through the house and Lizzie rushed to shove the large book back into the box and situate it nicely into the spot that it was before. She pushed the diary into the pocket of her sweatshirt and quickly rushed down the ladder, closing the door with nothing more than a groan.

Lizzie leaned awkwardly against the wall next to the bathroom door just as her mother rounded the top flight of stairs; barely as out of breath as Lizzie was. She put her hands in the pocket of her sweatshirt to lessen the bulk.

Her mother narrowed brilliant blue eyes “What are you doing?”

“Nothing,” she ignored the sweat that soaked into the fabric around her neck. “Not a thing. What were you calling me for?”

Caroline Forbes wasn’t stupid. In fact, she was one of the most brilliant people that Lizzie had ever had the pleasure of knowing. It came in handy for last-minute projects and itinerary planning for family vacations with both her mother and father. But in moments like these, it was her worst enemy.

“Right, you have a friend at the door. I told her you aren’t a morning person but she seemed pretty intent on talking to you.”

“You’re sure it’s not for Josie?”

“Positive, dear.” Her mother answered, surveying her daughter once more. Out of breath and rosy-cheeked. Lizzie gave her a weak smile and left her in the hallway, glancing up at the string to the attic as it swung back and forth.

Lizzie padded down at the steps and felt an in an instant the cool air that surrounded her. It was a stark difference from where she had just been and the dried sweat made her skin feel tight. She reached for the door and pulled it open, once again met with hot air from the ending weeks of summer.

Hope Mikaelson stood at attention, pulling her focus away from the stretching vines that worked its way around the gutter and towards the upper level of the house. In spring the green roots would bloom a brilliant violet and emit a sweet aroma- but right now all Lizzie could smell was Hope. Deep and earthy, yet somehow sweet.

She wore a black t-shirt that attracted the sun. It looked tighter on her than any bathing suit was and Lizzie dug her nails into her palm to distract herself, mentally getting slap on the wrist. She didn’t’ say anything but wasn’t sure for how long.

“I wanted to apologize for last night.” She struggled and averted her dark blue stare, Hope fluidly moved something from her pocket and thrust it forward. “You left this at the party.”

Lizzie reached forward, bewildered as she palmed the cell phone that she hadn’t even realized she lost. “In the house?”

“Yeah, in the house.” Hope frowned “You alright, Lizzie?”

And she wasn’t going to let Hope Mikaelson do that. That thing where she makes her feel like her memory is slipping. “I’m just peachy, Hope. I had this in the woods last night.”

Hope lifted both of her eyebrows and turned her attention back to the plants that moved up the wall and circled the brick, like a racetrack. She lifted her hand and played with one of the leaves, not bending it but simply moving her touch gently against its surface. “This is wisteria, right?”

“I think, yeah.”

She had come all this way to discuss plants, and hand her back a dead cell phone that was covered in grass that was dried to the case. Almost as if she dropped it in the yard in front of Kaleb’s house. But she remembers using the light on her phone to guide her through the thicket of branches and hollowed logs.

“Wisteria used to be a cure-all, you know? People used to believe that its vibrant colors meant something powerful. They would grind it up and put it on wounds from war, and even ingest it which probably was worse for wear than anything.” Hope chuckled and shoved her hands in her pockets, lost in the history of her words. “It’s best for painting, though. Especially when they’re in full bloom”

“You paint?” She found herself asking instead of the hard questions. The questions about what she had seen last night and that odd warmth that filled her when Hope’s touch lingered with hers, something akin to what she felt upstairs.

“I dabble. My parents own that art gallery in town, Crescent.”

She had seen the little shop. It was right on the corner next to a small coffee shop that rewrote an inspirational quote on a chalkboard each day of the week. Some of them made Lizzie chuckle but she was too bitter to admit it.

“My dad likes to use the natural stuff for colors. Wisteria is one of his favorites.”

Lizzie realized once more that she was being quieter than she should and Hope rushed to fill the vacant space. She would dare to say that the girl was nervous and she thought that she was too. Her palms sweat and her hands itched to pry open the leather journal that was left behind in the attic.

“Anyway, I just wanted to return that to you. Phones are like a lifeline these days and I don’t know what I would do without mine.” Hope took a half-step back and Lizzie ached as she turned entirely towards the sidewalk.

“Hey, Hope?”

“Yeah?”

Lizzie had her full attention, her oceanic stare as her hair shifted in the hot summer breeze. The way the sun bounced off every inch of her radiant skin and highlighted the slight ghost of where freckles should be. “Thank you.”

The girl nodded with a smirk playing at her lips before she walked across the front lawn and drove away in a car that Lizzie didn’t recognize. One with a blacked-out license plate and tinted windows so thick they reflected her own image staring into the distance.

Lizzie Saltzman looked at the wisteria as it shifted in the wind, and she yearned for any indication that Hope understood what she meant. That she knew she wasn’t thanking her for a cheap cellphone that she could replace in a moment. But for something more, and entirely otherworldly. 


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Anyway, I have a bunch of time on my hands because I'm very close to being fired altogether due to a huge pandemic- BUT that does mean that I can update a bunch, so let me know what you guys are thinking!

**Pieology Pizzeria had** the type of food that swam right to Lizzie Saltzman’s gut. It was dripping with orange grease and the slimy texture of fries was masked with artificial liquid cheese. Lizzie was never sure how a place could burn something and serve it raw all at once- or why they had chosen this place to have their usual dinners.

She would understand the novelty of a singing mechanical band that had odd human-like qualities about them. Or maybe if the tables, covered in checkered white and red cloths, could be shoved aside to reveal a dance floor. But the only thing Pieology had to offer was a broken jukebox and scratched up pool table, always tooling with a line.

Even the scent of fried dough was making her stomach churn, so she reached forward and took a few delicate sips of a glass of cola that she didn’t want to think too much about. The bubbles burned her throat and she leaned further into the booth.

“I just don’t get how a _rock_ can take his powers away,” Lizzie said as she set the glass back on the tablecloth.

“It’s not just a rock Lizzie, it’s a crystal that physically changes the molecular balance that Kryptonians have. It weakens them and makes them almost powerless.” MG reached forward for a soggy fry “That has to be scary- being the strongest thing in the world and then suddenly being powerless.”

“Because of a rock?”

“It’s not a rock!” 

Josie groaned loudly, situated across from the two of them, she had covered most of her pizza in parmesan cheese. It soaked up the grease and made it look almost edible, but she still only dared three bites before shoving the plate away entirely.

It was her idea to come to Pieology in the first place, and Lizzie jumped at the idea after a marathon of MG’s favorite superhero movies (which apparently included all of them except the 2004 version of Catwoman).

“What’s wrong Jo?” MG asked, ignoring the conversation as a whole, even though Lizzie still wanted to a push a few of his buttons. “Not hungry?”

Josie’s cheeks reddened as she glanced down at the half-eaten slice in front of her before training her gaze on the window behind the counter. A few red stools allowed people to wait for takeout or maybe get some off-brand beer. There was a line of food waiting to be served and two people rushing to deliver it.

There was a guy, Rafael she thought, that balanced two large pies against his hands as he walked. And then there was the fixation of Josie’s interest. A girl that Lizzie had seen on the one occasion that they convinced their mother to order in after a long day at work; she was pretty, long dirty blonde hair tied up in a messy bun, a white and red t-shirt hugged her perfectly, spotted in flour and grease.

“Oh,” Lizzie whispered before widening her eyes “You’ve got the hot’s for the Pizza girl!”

Josie took a sharp intake of air and moved her hand frantically to her lips to shush her sister, pushing a glass of cola over the checkered sheet and making a banging noise in the process. A mix of ice and sugar spilled against MG’s shorts and Lizzie squealed, pushing herself further against the booth.

And the girl, the girl with deep grey eyes and a strand of hair falling into her gaze rushed across the restaurant with a white rag that had seen better days. Josie’s cheeks turned seven shades of red “I am _so_ sorry”

“Oh, it’s alright. It happens way more often than you think.” She beamed a pretty smile as she started to scoop some of the ice into her palm. “If it makes you feel any better we could get you a cup with a lid.”

“Ha,” Josie gave a weak smile in return “Only if it comes with a bendy straw.”

The girl snorted and shook her head, giving Josie a cunning wink before she gathered up the now empty glass. “I think we can arrange that.”

Josie stumbled over her own words before just nodding quickly and shooting Lizzie a glare. The waitress balanced the items expertly as she walked back to the kitchen to dispose of the dishes. The table was sticky and whatever appetite she had dissipated with her sister's awkward attempt at flirting.

MG struggled to use paper towels to dry off the wet spots on his shorts and Lizzie’s attention was drawn to the bell that rung above the restaurant's door. Jed waltzed into Pieology like he owned the place, a deep grin on his face and his lackey, or girlfriend, Lizzie was never quite sure, followed after him like an obedient dog.

The rest of his crew wasn’t far behind and they took up two tables in the back corner. Lizzie found herself wanting to shrink until she didn’t exist anymore- and okay, that was infuriating in its own right because she wasn’t afraid of Jed. Had never been before. But his eyes were dark and familiar and she didn’t enjoy the cold hungry feeling that arose as they met hers from across the room.

He nodded, nodded in understanding or warning or just some sort of male assertion of dominance. Either way, Lizzie had been washed over with the sense of fear, pulling sand away from the coastline like a broken wave.

“Hey,” She said, slight and half-alive “I’m going to go get some air.”

MG shot her a questioning look but relented and slid out of the booth to let her scoot past him. Josie tore her own gaze from the window of the kitchen and frowned. “You okay, Liz?”

“I’m good, yeah. It’s just a little stuffy in here.”

Josie seemed to accept the answer, and Lizzie didn’t have it in her to fight tonight. Too many people she cared for had asked that same question in the past 48 hours, along with one girl that she had no business wanting to know in the first place.

Lizzie kept her head down as she walked from the restaurant and into the cool night air. The first two gulps of something other than starch and melted cheese eased her nerves tenfold and she even considered collecting herself and walking back into the restaurant.

Instead, she shoved her hands into the pockets of her jean shorts and started to walk down main street; past two of bars that were separated by an opening and a difference of names, and an ice cream shop that was just starting to lock up. Archaic lights from the town's first settlement littered the streets, and paper posters shuffled in the wind. An early advertisement for a fall festival.

Lizzie passed a coffee shop on the corner and found herself stopping in front of three panes of glass. The lights in the building were dimmed but she could still see a few paintings highlighted by flood lamps. She squinted at the large one in front of her, mouth propped slightly open.

It was a portrait of a city, reflected so perfectly in the choppy waves of a river. The colors on the left side were soft and blue and refreshing- but in the middle it got muddy. Dark and crimson and slathered in blood mirrored by the moon. It was beautiful and left a thick feeling of fear and wonderment across her skin.

“It’s pretty, isn’t it?”

Lizzie could feel her heart in her throat, fingers dashing up to the collar of her shirt as she drew in a breath sharp enough to cut her tongue. She hadn’t noticed the woman exit the shop; despite the loud keys that she locked up with.

She smiled softly, and just like the painting, it was alluring. The woman was breathtaking; dressed in mostly black, but ever the professional. Her brunette hair moved over her shoulders in thick curls and her eyes glowed a familiar green. 

“I didn’t mean to scare you,” She said, pocketing the keys.

“Oh, you didn’t I was just,” Lizzie turned back to the painting and stared at it “admiring this.”

The woman smiled and blew a puff of air from her nose before she took a half-step to join Lizzie. And they both looked at the stretching city for a few moments of comfortable silence. “It’s New Orleans, during a somewhat dark time.”

“It’s beautiful. Did you paint it?”

“No, I didn’t.” She said but didn’t offer up another explanation, instead she shoved her hands into her own pockets and stared back at the painting, but Lizzie had directed her attention more to the reflection of the both of them, in a crystal clear window with the words _“Crescents Arte Gallery”_ written neatly in cursive.

“You’re Hope’s mother,” She whispered out in a nearly breath-filled sigh of realization, louder this time “She looks just like you.”

The woman chuckled and the sound was godlike. “I’m surprised she even told you about this place. Hope isn’t exactly open about all of this.”

Lizzie didn’t have it in her to explain that she didn’t know why she was here in the first place. Or why she had dashed out of the pizzeria at the sight of a group of teenagers that shouldn’t perturb her. Instead, she turned her gaze back to the painting. “What happened that made the city look so dark?”

She answered like it was written on the back of her hand in sharpie “A power struggle, a lot of people wanting something that shouldn’t have been tamed in the first place. Even today some parts of the city are bathed in blood.”

Lizzie didn’t understand, but asked: “Is that why you’re in Virginia, then?”

“A change of scenery is good for the soul. It was nice to meet you?” Hope’s mother outstretched a hand and lilted her head to the side like a confused animal, waiting for its next command.

“Lizzie,” She took the woman’s hand and nearly recoiled at the amount of pure energy that shot up her arm and flooded her chest. An innate warmth that she swore radiated a neon red in their distorted reflections. She barely flinched, instead “Lizzie Saltzman.”

Realization flashed through an unripe stare, as her focus flicked to their joined hands and then back to Lizzie’s own gaze. “Lizzie, have a good night.”

“Yeah,” She watched as Hope’s mother pulled away and walked around the side of the building “You too.” 


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I don't wanna say it's a filler chapter because it's totally not- but I did throw a bunch of information at you guys! Oh, and if you celebrate it, Happy Easter!

**The scent of chlorine** caused an odd chill to move through Lizzie’s body. It reminded her more of her childhood home than it did her past two summers working as a lifeguard. They had let the water grow to a murky green during the winter months and spent a whole week every May wading out leaves and the occasional frog.

Her father had put a chain-link fence up around the cement after their dog fell in one summer. He was fine, shaken up and drenched in a mess of gunk and stagnant water. They moved the next year and forgot all about it, even though Lizzie knew that they were afraid the same thing would happen to them.

She used her keycard and listened to the small hum of the automatic lock at the park. It was empty but still carried that same scent of chemicals and cheap plastic. Every inflatable had been deflated and stacked in storage. The snack shack was dim and desolate. Lizzie kept her course towards the front office so she could return the uniforms that they had given them- washed and pressed per her mother’s perfectionism.

The office reminded her of a school building. The floor was a speckled tile and made the rest of the room cold, a large desk situated with a smiling mascot competed for her main attention against the metal osculating fan and a battery-powered radio that hummed country music. She wasn’t the only one that waited until the last minute to return her bathing suit and metal whistle, other stacks of clothes labeled with sticky notes rested on the counter.

Jed stood behind the desk, sorting through a collection of papers and wavers that Lizzie couldn’t stomach. She couldn’t’ quite fight back the nausea at the sight of him either. She didn’t’ question his position as an occasional office assistant- nor did she make eye contact with him as she set down her own uniform.

“Lizzie,” He beamed, purely wolfish and familiar. She felt her heart swim to her stomach and she played with the lanyard on the whistle. The two of them were utterly alone. “I’m so glad you’re here. I’ve been trying to get ahold of you for a couple of days now.”

“Me? Why?”

She wanted to sound more confident than she did, but her words still wavered in fear. Some foreign part of her wondered if he could smell it or feel it rolling off of her in thick palpable waves.

He moved closer but a desk still separated them. “A few nights ago at the party, I wanted to apologize to you. I was drunk and my head wasn’t in the right place. I didn’t mean to intimidate you.”

Lizzie blinked at him in stunned silence. _I’m sorry_ wasn’t exactly in Jed’s vocabulary. She had only heard him say it once before when they were in third grade and he broke a kids arm. Miss Richie made him read a handwritten apology out loud in front of the class and carry around the kids’ books for the duration of his time in a cast. The kid moved and Jed started to go to counseling after that- but a fit of underlying anger was still rampant. 

“Did Hope put you up to this?” Lizzie asked cautiously.

Jed frowned “No, why would she?”

Lizzie wanted to get rid of the word vomit that bubbled up inside of her but pressed her lips into a thin line instead. _Because she has some weird type of power over you, because you backed down visibly once when she spoke a simple sentence. Because if it really was you in the woods that night, you surrendered so quickly._

“She seems to have a hero complex going on these days.” Lizzie averted her gaze before registering the sour taste in her mouth. “Thank you for the apology, Jed. I appreciate it.”

She felt like she met it too, though the deep anxiety that ran through her continued to rage on like a parade of darkness. His eyes, that deep stare was so recognizable. Neither of them had anything else to say so she left to office and felt goosebumps rise against her bare arms.

Lizzie shook off the cold feeling that overtook her as she headed back out to the employee parking lot because she had a lot of research to do in the next five days that she was free from all responsibilities before classes started up again. Real, honest to God, research that required her to go to the library instead of sit on her mom’s laptop and Google.

Besides, she knew better than to open the questions she had up to visible search history.

The library was as empty as she expected it to be during the last week of summer. Two cars rested in the parking lot, not including hers, and different flyers decorated a corkboard screwed into brick- advertising the same fall festival and different clubs that would start after school was back in session.

Lizzie had always loved the aged scent of libraries; the old paper and worn ink. The perfume coming from the librarian who barely looked up at the sound of the bell above the door. Besides- Lizzie knew where she wanted to go, a small back room filled with town ordinances and history. Books that she couldn’t’ check out, but could photocopy if she needed to. 

It was separated from the stacks of mystery novels and romances. Large glass windows gave her a view of the sitting area and a kids section decorated by a fluffy yellow bear cut out of cardboard. Even from here, Lizzie could tell that the room wasn’t empty. She was tempted to try her luck tomorrow and pretend to browse the shelves until she could wander away entirely.

But she stilled at the metal frame door- because Hope Mikaelson stood at one of the back tables, a frustrated look on her face as she glared down at the browned town registry. Auburn hair fell into ocean blue eyes, and before Lizzie could even acknowledge her, Hope spoke.

“I’m beginning to think that you’re stalking me, Saltzman.” She didn’t bother looking up and Lizzie didn’t want to guess how she knew it was her.

“Please, I have better things to do.” Lizzie stepped into the room and fought off a shiver. “What are you looking at?”

“Oh, you know, anything and everything on this stupid little town.”

Hope finally looked up from the aged text and she had a bit of a smile on her face. Not something that Lizzie saw from the girl often, or ever, really. But it was breathtaking and easy. She didn’t seem to be bothered by the cold or the new addition to the room.

There were notebooks scattered around and her handwriting was messy but charming. Lizzie didn’t’ want to linger or stare at her notes for too long. But that didn’t’ stop her from asking the questions that bit at the tip of her tongue.

“I thought you would have better things to do than sit at a library on a Tuesday evening,” Hope said. 

“Yeah well, I happened to have some research that I need to get done. I can come back another day if you-“

“No, stay,” Hope said, flashing her gaze down at the book before moving it back to Lizzie. She had been too eager with her words and took a stilling breath “What I mean is, I’ve been trapped in this room reading almost everything here for the past four weeks. Maybe I can help you find what you’re looking for.”

Lizzie glanced back at the librarian behind the desk. She seemed so far away now like she and Hope were trapped in a bubble with the world at their fingertips. And if anyone had asked her at the start of the summer where she saw herself in three months; it wouldn’t be here. Now, she couldn’t imagine anything different.

She let out a sigh and reached into the leather backpack that she carried in with her, pulling out the aged journal that she found in the attic. And god, she didn’t’ know why she was trusting Hope over Josie- or Hope over anyone for that matter.

“I was snooping the other night and found this in my mom’s stuff. It’s a journal written by Faith Parker. I don’t know who she is, or… or if she even has anything to do with my family. But her writing is cryptic and I just feel a connection to it.” Lizzie let out a sigh “I know it’s stupid but I need to figure this out, it’s eating at me.”

“It’s not stupid,” Hope fretted and walked a few paces across the room “May I?”

Lizzie nodded and handed over the leather journal, her fingers brushing with Hope's. That same warmth shot against her skin, all-encompassing and strong. The same type of energy she felt with Hope’s mother as they stood in front of the art shop, and familiar to the first jolt of power that the book had given her.

Hope lifted her gaze and pulled back, nearly like she felt the same sensation, but she didn’t say anything. “Whoa, this thing is archaic. How far have you gotten?”

“I’ve read a few entries, but it’s mainly about her family. Her two kids and her husband, Henry.”

“Henry,” She purred out the name and ran her fingers delicately over the spine before frowning and handing the book back. “I think I saw a Henry Parker in the town’s census back in, oh what was it? 1859?”

Lizzie nodded dumbly because that had been the same date that was listed in over half of the journal. Towards the end, it stretched out to 1860 before the entries cut off entirely. She hadn’t gotten far enough to read the full thing, and part of her was ashamed of that. She was astonished by Hopes memory and the way she moved to one of the shelves and pulled out the exact book that she was looking for.

The two of them ended up at the table, shoulder to shoulder, but not quite touching, as she flipped through page after page of handwritten names and addresses that stretched into intricate graphs. Family trees, Lizzie was guessing.

She stopped midway on a large design that seemed to stem from two single names in the 1700s. “The Parkers were a founding family here.”

“A what?”

Hope rolled her eyes, “Back when the town was first discovered there were six founding families. Most of them have moved away by now. But they were the original settlers that cultivated everything here.”

“Oh,” Lizzie looked down at the book, pointing to a singular name “There’s Henry- and Faith.”

“Asa and Alexander were born the same year, same day, twins… actually, there’s a set of twins every generation.”

Lizzie shrugged her shoulders and stared at the long list of names; the way every single woman in the family married into a different last name and discarded Parker entirely, her gaze scanned all of them until she landed on one she recognized. _Laughlin._

There was a singular line drawn next to her name, leading to another. _Kai Parker._ Then two more that shifted to a younger generation born to the same parents- twins too. The last that was written on the yellowed page.

“Laughlin, that’s my bio mom’s last name,” Lizzie mumbled, more to herself.

It was Hope’s turn to question “Your what?”

Lizzie glanced at the girl who stood next to her, smelling so thickly of the musk that coated the books. Aged and fine like a good glass of crimson wine. Lizzie hesitated, she had never explained her family to anyone because it was fucked up. In every sense of the word. Some part of her trusted Hope more than she’d like to admit.

“I’m sorry I shouldn’t have pried,” Hope shut the book and ignored the dust that filled the air.

“No, it’s alright.” Lizzie found herself saying, “My dad was engaged to a very talented doctor, Jo Laughlin. They were dedicated to each other, more than anything. But she wasn’t comfortable carrying kids due to the risk of her profession. So they found a surrogate, so confident that they wanted to spend every waking moment together. They searched and found my mom.”

Hope listened intently, eyes searching Lizzie’s features for an explanation of emotion, but she found none, other than wistfulness.

“A week before their wedding Jo died, I don’t know why or how- my dad doesn’t like to talk about it. But he and my mom decided that it would be best to raise the two of us like a family. Together in some odd co-parenting nightmare.”

Hope didn’t’ say anything for a long while, and Lizzie could feel an odd type of heat creep up her neck. There was a silence she wanted to fill and a less pronoun distance she wanted to close. Her own mind was buzzing with discovery; she had never asked about her family. Not wanting to question the thinly veiled lies that she knew gave her mother and father comfort.

“like I said… fifty shades of fucked up.” Lizzie finally settled.

She frowned again and this time it felt deeper than before. “Lizzie I’m stuck in this room every day for hours on end because my parents are lying to me. About who they are and what they’ve done.”

Lizzie didn’t’ say a word, didn’t even breathe in. Hope didn’t talk about her past and Lizzie never found it useful to pry. Up until a week ago, she had a pristine and perfect image of Hope Mikaelson. The same Hope Mikaelson with the fancy house and famous parents that pilfered underground art. They had raised her well and had given her a heroic image, but maybe there was more. More to all of them.

“I know they’re trying to protect me, just like I think your parents are trying to do the same for you and Josie but- the amount of carnage and history that this town has can’t be pure coincidence. Why would my parents pick this place? When we could go anywhere, why here?”

“I’ve been here my whole life, Hope.” Lizzie turned until the small of her back rested on the wooden table and she was facing the archaic set of books. She crossed her arms over her chest. “I would be lying to you if I said it was a normal town. Weird things happen but no one questions it, and why would they?”

“It has to do with the founding families.” Hope grimaced and looked down at the book. She seemed nervous and tightly wound. “I think that maybe… we should work together on this? You can find out everything you want when it comes to the Parkers and I can finally get some answers about my parent's motives.”

“And how are you so sure they have motives in the first place?” Lizzie asked a blatant question, one that made her lips tingle and throat feel sour. “Maybe they just wanted to give you a simple small-town life away from everything else.”

Hope scoffed, not a mean sound, but something more of disbelief.

“Lizzie, there is no such thing as simple when it comes to my parents. Trust me when I say this.” Then she faltered, hesitated and accepted before speaking once more. Her eyes pouring into Lizzie’s like a raging storm that had just taken down a ship. “If we’re going to do this, I need to tell you the truth. The whole truth.”


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This quarantine is making me feel some type of way and I'm not sure if that's a good thing or not? If you guys are struggling just keep up with what you're passionate about- it for sure doesn't solve everything but it can help. Let me know what you guys think!

**Hope’s car was** a sharp contrast of cold air compared to the humid summer afternoon. The interior was leather, a tan color that didn’t match the black paint. Lizzie couldn’t tell if the vehicle was even Hope’s or if it was a test car driven right off the lot. There was no sign of life other than the backpack she had put into the trunk.

Her own car was a hand me down, one that had been refinished in a robin blue. Her uncle had been in love with the Chevy and had given her a three-hour speech about being _a responsible driver_ before handing over the keys with a fuzzy ball attached, and even then, it looked loved. A small scratch against the right leather seat and a couple of coins in the cupholder. Lizzie had never moved them.

She placed her hands in her lap and joined her fingers, too afraid to touch anything. Hope seemed at ease as she pulled out of the library’s parking lot and onto the main road, while Lizzie started to second guess her decision in the first place. Following Hope Mikaelson anywhere felt like a death sentence.

A little over a year ago, she appeared out of thin air, pulling a different kind of black car into the school’s student parking lot. Lizzie remembers Dana leaning close to her with her cotton-candy body spray coating her throat and whispering: _“Who is that?”_ In a venom tone. 

Lizzie didn’t’ know, so she shrugged dejectedly. Whoever it was had to be loaded and conceded and entirely out of place in their small-town school. But Hope never acted or dressed like she had money, other than the unintentional flaunt of her car. She kept to herself and had rebuffed Dana’s advances on the first day with a simple statement and a cold stare. Enemy number one, and a loner ever since.

The blonde had gotten a better grip on her personality over the summer, though she was still quiet and placid like a settled lake covered in a rolling type of fog that was heavy. She had saved more than one drowning kid- if Lizzie was counting right, her blunder made a fifth.

“Are you going to murder me?”

Hope shot her eyebrows up, not taking her stare away from the highway that they had turned onto, the car buzzed around them and Lizzie felt like pulling herself further into the leather seat if it wasn’t for the possibility of staining it.

“I guess we’ll see when we get there.”

Lizzie snapped her jaw shut because that wasn’t the answer she wanted. She had lost her nerves when it came to making small-talk so they rode in a settled silence. Hope had turned off the highway and onto a dirt road well-worn with tire tracks. Lizzie found her fingers moving unconsciously towards the belt. They were going slow enough for her to tuck and roll and only get a broken arm and some bruises.

Hope glanced her way, stare a little less stormy than it had been in the library. Her fingers were gripping the steering wheel, almost as if she were as nervous as Lizzie felt. If she was, she didn’t say anything. The car was shaded with a canopy of green oak trees and the slowly setting sun. It gave everything an ivy hue that Lizzie would consider pretty in any other situation.

She pulled the SUV up to a large set of metal gates stretching almost as tall as the leaves. There was a keypad next to the diver's side and she rolled down the window (something Lizzie couldn’t’ do in her car unless the temperature allowed it). Hope easily punched in a four-digit code before the gates creaked open and they pulled through.

“You can relax, you know. I was just kidding.” Hope said; her words light.

“I’ve seen every episode of Dexter twice and this is looking like over half of them.”

Hope scoffed as they pulled through what seemed like an endless thicket of underbrush and the looming vegetation that it had fallen from. Spanish moss dripped from the branches like a spilled bottle of matte polish, impossible to scrub. And finally- they pulled up to a clearing.

Emerald waves of wheatgrass rolled and crumpled under the early evening breeze, stretching on for miles and miles. Lizzie couldn’t’ see where the tree line picked up again, a few oaks scattered like Morse code. There was nothing around for miles- no one to hear her scream; Lizzie’s invasive thoughts rang like a bell. 

Hope had shut off the engine and a new blanket of sound surrounded them; crickets hissing their call and bullfrogs humming a tempo unfamiliar and strange. There must be a swamp nearby or at least a marsh that was teeming with gnats. Lizzie watched as subtle green lights flashed in intervals, the night growing blue. A sky filled with neon pinks and vibrant oranges as what remained of the sun reflected off clouds.

Yeah, this place could be beautiful. It wasn’t anything short of one of the magazine covers that were strewn across doctor’s offices. But she was here with Hope- and the setting reminded her all too much of the party that had threatened her sanity.

“My parents bought this place for me.” Hope finally said, leaning back in the tan seat.

“Your parents…bought you a forest?”

Hope laughed again, this time louder, or maybe everything around her quieted. The sound was all-consuming and strong and eased Lizzie’s nerves enough to loosen her shoulders a bit. “Yeah, yes, I suppose.”

“Why would they buy you that?” Lizzie frowned.

The auburn-haired girl unbuckled her seatbelt and opened the car door, a rhythmic beeping sounded off and Lizzie guessed it had something to do with her keys still being in the ignition. Hope followed her gaze and pulled them away before reaching them out. 

“Take these,” she lifted her chin and Lizzie cautiously took the keys. “I don’t want you to be afraid. I just have to show you something but I can’t do that if you think I’m going to bury you somewhere out here. If you feel uncomfortable, you can just drive away.”

“The gates,”

“Mow them down, I don’t care.”

Lizzie nodded before pocketing them and following Hope out of the car. They walked a few feet the yellow headlights becoming more prominent against the risen grass. Their steps disturbed the fireflies and they flew towards the wall of trees.

Hope breathed in the scent of wet dirt and aged bark, a sly smile on her face. “My father thought that I needed a place to escape here. Said that being all pent up and trapped wasn’t the way that they ever did things. So moving here wouldn’t be any different.”

She didn’t talk for a moment, instead, she stared up at the blanket of stars that were slowly starting to define themselves in the wet air.

“I don’t know why I trust you, Lizzie. But I do. Which is why I trust that you won’t run from this.” Hope lowered her stare and took three even steps to close the distance between, she stared her down. “I know you recognized me that night.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Please, Lizzie. You could barely hold it in when I dropped your phone off. You could have asked me then.”

She felt cold despite the heat radiating from the car’s engine, settling from the lack of use. Hope didn’t mean in the hallway, or in the kitchen that was seeped with the nauseating scent of grease. Hope was hinting at something she had tried hard to forget over the last few days. The reason why she had poured herself into that stupid journal and superhero movies. Something that Lizzie wasn’t sure if she wanted to believe because it would change everything she knew.

“No, I can’t do this.” Lizzie took a step back and felt the grill press against her skin. “Find someone else to trust Mikaelson because I’m not ready for this.”

“I can’t do that Lizzie. You’re a Parker.”

“I don’t know what that means!”

“That’s what I’m trying to tell you!” Hope’s voice was shaking and louder than it had been before. Not out of anger or annoyance, but something of pure desperation. She took a gulp of air and schooled her features. “There are things in this world that I don’t understand. About this town, and your family- and myself, but I have this thing about being kept in the dark.”

Lizzie could feel her heart pound and knew that Hope could hear it.

“I don’t like being lied to and I think you deserve the truth just as much as I do.”

She could feel an odd edge of anger lick at the back of her neck. This had all started when Hope saved the day once again and she was left with nothing but questions. Questions that were getting answered now, but not in the way she wanted and craved. This felt heavy, like a cinderblock tied against her ankle on the edge of a water-soaked dock. She took a step forward and shoved Hope hard enough to make her stumble a step back.

“Okay, I get it, Hope. You’re some sort of weird alpha beast from New Orleans but what does that have to do with me? You… you can’t just throw all of this at me, and swoop in to protect me in some sort of fucked up territorial way! That’s not fair!”

“Territorial?” Hope scoffed, “That’s what you think this is?”

Lizzie didn’t feel so sure of herself anymore, but she blew out a breath of air and huffed with confidence. If that was the only thing she had left to hold onto, she would. Like a life raft against choppy waves, her fingers digging into the plastic.

“The Parkers are witches, Lizzie.” Hope said, voice hard “Part of the Gemini coven that founded this town. It’s the reason why my parents moved us here.”

“No, that’s not true.” Her tone was slight and breath carried with the wind. She felt something well up inside of her, something foreign and strong that needed to be swallowed down with the threat of vomit. “Someone would have told me. You’re lying.”

But she could see it in the shorter girls' face. The way that her eyes had softened entirely until there was no discomfort left behind them. Her shoulders had dropped and the tension drained away like a dripping spout. Lizzie ran her fingers through her hair and attempted a steadying breath.

Hope had taken a step closer and three fireflies fizzled into the air. “This isn’t something I take lightly, and I would never lie about it.” 

She had closed the distance between the two of them, and Lizzie couldn’t back any further into the SUV, but she didn’t attempt to. She hadn’t felt the tears that were streaming down her face and dripping from her chin- nor did she register enough to wipe them away.

Instead, she frowned as Hope lifted her hand and cupped her cheek because something she could only describe as a warm wave of electricity prickled against her skin. She was using her thumb to gently wipe away the tears, but there was something more; some register of power that neither of them had felt to this extent before.

Lizzie didn’t mean to, but she sighed into the embrace, wrapped her fingers around Hope’s wrist as if to hold her touch there.

“Do you feel that?” Hope’s voice was barely above a whisper.

She carefully led her hand to the moist grass, led both of them to a kneeling position in front of the car, and Lizzie allowed it, digging her fingers into the dirt- feeling something entirely different than the energy that pulsed through Hope. This vibration was darker but not filled with unbridled rage. It was history- Lizzie guessed, the reason why Hope brought her past the iron fence in the first place. Something had happened here.

Lizzie’s stare was cloudy and her words barely above a breath. “What is that?”

“Its power.”

A simple answer but one that Lizzie knew rung true. She felt it push against her veins until it hugged her bones, brittle and surging with magic. An old type of magic that she could practically smell, and though the other night didn’t make much sense to her, this certainly did.

“How do you know all of this?”

“The Mikaelson’s have a deep-rooted fear of power like this. I think that’s why my parents hid the truth from me for so long. That there were other creatures out there and that… that something like me shouldn’t even be possible.”

Lizzie forced out a dry laugh and let her head fall back against the front edge of the car. Her slowly drying tears made her skin feel tight. “Parents huh? Always trying to protect us from stuff they don’t think we can handle.”

Hope smiled and the gesture was bright but masked in sadness. “Yeah well… A prison is still a cage, no matter how sheltered it is from the outside world. Are you going to be okay?”

The question threw her off guard, but what else could she expect from Virginia’s resident hero. She didn’t have a solid answer either, not for something like that. So she gave an apprehensive nod.

“Oh yeah, I just have to process the whole witchy ancestor thing.” A slight pause “And the fact that you're basically a gigantic puppy, that might take a couple of days.”

Hope let out a sigh, but one of relief instead of sorrow. 


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, so this is the definition of a filler chapter, but don't worry because things are about to get insane in the next one. As always, thank you for reading and let me know your thoughts!

**Josie’s door had** been shut by the time Lizzie got home, a sweet golden light pouring onto the carpet to disrupt the cool darkness that shaded the hallway. It was a little past midnight and she had been careful enough with the front door not to disturb her mother, who had fallen asleep on the sofa while a Nicholas Spark’s movie droned on.

She stopped in front of her own door and stared unfeeling at it. Lizzie Saltzman had always been known for her explosive personality and uncontrollable emotions. Not this subtle feeling of emptiness and expectancy. Did Josie deserve to know about this, or would it be simpler to let her worry about school and that odd crush on the pizza delivery girl?

It would be unfair, Lizzie decided.

She took in an easy breath and knocked softly on Josie’s door, but didn’t’ hear anything in return. Her sister would often fall asleep with a book nuzzled against her chest and one headphone in; the other pulled out in a fit of exhaustion. Lizzie pushed the door open and froze.

Josie was being straddled, not in like, an innocent way either. That same Pizza delivery girl was leaned down, her hands cupping Josie’s face as the two of them kissed, her logoed shirt shed and thrown across the room- and Lizzie quickly felt all color leave her face before she let out a yelp and shut the door.

“Oh my God,” She said, and the door opened a moment later, spilling honey across the carpet again. Her back was against the bathroom door. “I have to get out of here-“

“Lizzie shhh,” Josie’s cheeks were a brash pink and she had thankfully situated her own clothes. Her tone was hushed “Where are you going?”

“To _scrub_ my eyes.”

She had thrown her arm across her gaze and dramatically searched for the light switch in the bathroom. She had found it hundreds of times but the only image that was running through her mind was her twin sister being pinned down- and oh my god.

“Hey, stop-“ She felt Josie’s hands on her shoulders and she finally pried her eyes open “You’re going to wake up mom and I don’t’ think this is a conversation any of us want to have. She doesn’t even know Jade is here.”

Lizzie snapped her jaw shut. Josie wasn’t one to go behind their parent's back. She was a calm and quiet rainfall where Lizzie was an electric and forceful storm. Even when they were younger, Josie could be found in the darkest corner of a library with her head in a book. In a way, Lizzie was beaming with pride.

Josie glanced down and took in the disheveled look her sister carried. “Why are you all muddy?”

She looked down at her own boots and silently prayed that she hadn’t tracked any dirt across the floors and up the stairs. On the ride back to the library both her and Hope were plunged into a thoughtful silence. She promised to let her know when she got home and to not start anything drastic with her parents until the learned more about the situation.

“I went for a run.”

“In jeans?”

“Yeah,” Lizzie shrugged dejectedly “I sweat more- that’s not the point. Can you at least keep your little fling down? I swear mom has superhuman hearing and you’re right. That’s not a lecture I want tonight.”

Josie gave her a soft look and it was something that Lizzie hated; it was the same look that her parents had given her when they found her in the middle of the wreckage of her room, a lamp was broken and there was a hole in the drywall. Her eyes stung from tears and her knuckles ached, blooming with the promise of blood.

“Is there something you wanted to talk about?”

Her sister meant no harm in her worry, and Lizzie knew that. “No, it’s not that important. We can talk about it tomorrow. Now, go back in there before Jade gets bored and ends up climbing back out the window without you.”

Josie smiled like she hadn’t in a long time before saying goodnight and closing her bedroom door behind her. It left Lizzie in the dark, her ears ringing like she had stepped off a flight. She wandered into her own room and collapsed on the bed, suddenly too tired to think about witches, or werewolves, or her sister getting more action than she did.

Lizzie had fallen asleep in her mud-soaked clothes. She felt stiff, and a good heaping of drool soaked into her duvet. There was somewhat of a film against her skin and the sun had barely begun to rise over the rolling bunches of trees. It washed her in a bluish light that wasn’t unlike the sunset last night.

Her phone buzzed and she scowled at it.

**_Hope:_ ** _Morning sunshine._

Lizzie groaned and curled deeper into her bed. There was no way Hope Mikaelson was going to get her out of bed this early in the morning. The scent of coffee tickled at the back of her throat; her mother’s daily routine started up long ago, but that didn’t’ mean that she had to be up too.

**_Hope:_ ** _Listen- It’s early but I'm trying to cushion the blow for what I’m about to do. Consider this your wakeup call and your warning, Saltzman._

**_Lizzie:_ ** _What are you about to do, Hope?_

**_Lizzie:_ ** _HOPE?!_

But it was too late; she already heard the knock at the front door. It was always bothersome when her father would tap against it in the morning to get them going, or even the mailman with his beaming smile and inhuman love of early days.

Lizzie let out a string of profanities and quickly pulled on a different t-shirt and pants that weren’t stained with the earth. She had half of a mind to rake her fingers through her hair but didn’t’ bother, instead rushing into the hallway and down the stairs with the speed of a kid on Christmas day.

Hope stood at the kitchen island across from her mother, each of them nursing a cup of coffee, and was she actually smiling? It was a genuine gesture, her eyes crinkling with light as she caught wind of Lizzie hovering in the hallway. She didn't want to admit that it was charming, captivating even. 

“Oh, hi darling” her mother said, swallowing the last of the coffee that coated her tongue. Hope’s eyebrows shot up over the side of her own mug and even with it blocking her expression, Lizzie knew that it was smug. “Your friend stopped by to invite us all to dinner tonight.”

“How nice,”

Her voice was flat and her mother turned to place her own glass in the sink, Lizzie glared at Hope with an expression that could stop traffic and got an infuriatingly cocky smile in return. What kind of game was she playing? The two of them were supposed to be figuring out things together but it seemed like Hope collected her two hundred dollars and passed go- twice.

“It might take some convincing but I think I can get your father to pull himself away from his work long enough for a nice dinner. What did you say your parents did again?” Caroline had flicked on the water and allowed it to warm, she ran it until the dark color of coffee had swirled around the drain. 

“They own an art gallery in town, and they’re just dying to meet you.”

Lizzie’s mother shut off the water in one swift movement and reached for the nearest dishtowel. She patted her hands dry all while her daughter gawked at the wolf across from her. Sure they hadn’t thought up a plan for all of this but they had talked about talking about it. And somehow Lizzie didn’t think to have a dinner together was on their to-do list.

“Well, we’ll be there. It was very nice to meet you, Hope. Lizzie talks a lot about you.”

What little color was left in her face drained. She felt like she had acquired the worst hangover and her head pounded unforgivingly. Hope Mikaelson stood with a smirk on her face and a lifted brow. She felt like she was being mocked, which isn’t something she would stand for- not in her own kitchen.

She made a quick excuse and wrapped her fingers around Hope’s wrist, pulling her towards the front door. She obeyed, giving Caroline a sweet goodbye before allowing herself to be lead down the hallway out of the front door. They were both overcome by stifling summer heat. She closed the door softly and took a steadying breath.

“What the hell were you thinking?”

“You talk about me?”

They both spoke at the same time and Lizzie could feel some degree of color blossom against her cheek. Maybe she had mentioned Hope in passing once or twice but she didn’t’ make a hobby of it. She could swear she saw a devilish edge to her mother’s words, even while she washed the mugs.

“Listen, I don’t know what you’re playing at, but you’re delusional if you think my family is having dinner with yours. That’s a disaster waiting to happen.”

“Oh, I agree.” Hope leaned against the brick wall, not bothered by the coarse material or the way the sun had warmed it to a boiling point. “It's kind of what I'm counting on. I need to get into my father’s office and there’s nothing better than a dinner party for a distraction.”

Lizzie glowered “You’re practically a criminal; I figured you could find a way to make a bobby pin useful. Why do you need to get into your dad’s office so bad anyway?”

“That journal you found isn’t the only one. Last night he was in the study when he called me in to take a look at a painting he bought in Georgia. When he opened the bottom cabinet I saw at least three of them; the same make as the one you have." 

“You think they’re from the other founding families?”

“It’s entirely possible.” Hope pushed herself from the wall and moved close enough to Lizzie for her to smell that familiar edge of earth that she carried like a vice. “But we’ll never know unless I can get enough time to break in and get them.”

A dinner party wasn’t a terrible idea. In a professional setting, especially in a house like the Mikaelson’s, her family would have to behave. Her father would be too distracted by the history of the paintings and her mother was always polite. Still, she couldn’t’ explain away the nerves that bit at the back of her throat like a rabid animal chained up in a beaten yard.

“Don’t worry, Lizzie. I wouldn’t’ consider this a date.” Hope smirked.

She sputtered and crossed her arms over her chest. “No, why would you?”

The shorter girl gave her an infuriating smile and took a step back down the drive. A different car was parked along the driveway, one that had the signature black exterior and tinted windows. There wasn’t a license plate- but again, none of this seemed to bother Hope.

She pulled open the car door “You know there’s a Pieology Pizza truck that’s been parked down the street?”


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Long time no see guys! Things have been kind of hectic, but here is that dinner party. Also, I would really appreciate it if you left some feedback and checked out my new Hizzie fic called "Spectral" Cheers!

_20 November, 1859_

_The winter has not been kind to us this year. Though it is barely past autumn, the air grows colder and the ground thicker with ice. The twins grow right along with it; restless and inconsolable. I often wonder when to tell them the truth. If I speak of their fate from a young age Asa and Alexander may foster malice for one another, and then an immense sadness that Henry and I have been burdened with. Asa is the stronger one. We can tell, even now, that she’ll cultivate herself like a growing storm._

Lizzie slammed the dusty journal shut with haste and shoved it under her pillow at the rapt knock that filtered through her door. She had withstood the temptation of reading forward until now. Part of her was convinced that it had to do with her fear of what was scribed on the pages. But deep down, she just didn’t want to know the truth.

She raised her stare “Come in!”

Josie pushed the door open with a long creak; she looked stunning, dressed in a forest green skater dress that dipped a little low. It was modest on Josie though. “I was wondering if I could borrow your jade necklace.”

Lizzie nodded and pulled herself away from the corner of her bed, careful not to disturb her own effort. She had a soft spot for anything black, and from the looks of the Mikaelson’s, so did they. The dress moved slightly past her knees, dark lace sleeves pushing close to her arms to counter the early August chill in the air.

She grasped the pendant that she had gotten for her 15th birthday and motioned for Josie to stand in front of the large standing mirror. Her sister obeyed and let Lizzie fasten the piece around her neck before they both got lost in their reflection.

Josie frowned before turning away “Can I ask you something?”

Lizzie didn’t want to point out that she already had. Her sister had been an incredibly good sport about all of this, despite the small groan of disapproval earlier in the day when their mother had mentioned the dinner party over lunch. Josie didn’t’ ask questions unless they were focused on Lizzie’s stability or where the remote had gone when she already searched haplessly within all the couch cushions.

“When did _you_ and Hope Mikaelson become friends? The last time any of us checked, you despised her and now we’re going to her house for small talk and finger food.”

“She’s not so bad.”

The words tasted like battery acid coming from her lips. Because, Hope wasn’t actually that terrible, but Lizzie wasn’t one to admit her misjudgments. She was shrouded in mystery with a family who could possibly be linked to a supernatural mafia, but she was charming. And smart, and from what she had seen, dedicated.

Josie could see right through her but nodded in acceptance despite no real answer being given. They could hear their mother calling from the bottom of the steps. Her voice echoed through the corridor. Lizzie decided to exit before her sister had another second to question her pension for Hope and rushed down the stairs with her heels against her palm. Caroline beamed and held the door open to rush them out.

Lizzie didn’t’ want to admit to the nerves that bundled up in the center of her stomach as she watched the trees whiz by. She trained her eyes on the mailboxes that each had a neatly printed number on the side because somehow that was easier than acknowledging the sweat against her palms. The neighborhood that she had grown accustomed to slowly trickled into lush forests and a few gas stations lit by a crude blue.

“Anyone else freaked out that she lives in the middle of nowhere?” Josie scooted into the middle of the two seats, glancing sparingly at her mother, and then at Lizzie.

Her mother hummed “They’re quite the family. I did some research, they’ve got art galleries up and down the east coast.”

“You _Googled_ Hope’s family?” 

She could have done that too, sure, and she was beyond tempted to. If her parents didn’t’ have such a strict hold on the internet at home she would have in a second. But all of those thoughts dissipated when she shared that breezed conversation with Hope’s mother in front of the gallery.

Caroline nodded with an innocent shrug before they pulled up to a large stone-clad gate fixed with iron. It reminded Lizzie of the fenced-in area Hope had brought her to the other day, but this time, she could see a looming house spilling golden light from its many windows. The gates opened without a code being keyed into the small box and their car pulled through.

Limestone made up the drive as it wound up a hill towards the mansion. There was a fountain bubbling with the promise of light and four of those black vehicles parked along the side. Even from here; Lizzie could see the large deck adorned with fairy lights and a stone fireplace. Her family gaped in silence and Lizzie sat back in the leather seat.

“The Mikaelson’s are loaded.”

“Josie,” Caroline warned.

But it was true, and Lizzie didn’t’ expect anything less. It made their modest four-bedroom with a basketball hoop drilled above the garage door feel like one of the many dollhouses that Hope was sure to have been spoiled with as a child. They sat in a small silence for a moment, staring up at the structure before Caroline made the first move to exit the car.

Josie knocked sparingly on the large mahogany doors and stepped back with her hands tucked behind herself as if she had a red wagon with thin mints carted with her. Lizzie found herself squaring her shoulders and staring directly where the door would open to a vast foyer with two sets of stairs leading to a landing.

Her mother seemed to slowly deflate when the man answered the door. He was dressed accordingly in all black, his slightly curled auburn hair was perfectly styled. There was little stubble against his stone cut jaw and a charming smile against his lips. His eyes were gray enough to sparkle a ripe green against the color of the moonlight.

“Hi, you must be the Saltzman’s.” His accent was thick and Josie did a quick inhale at the sound but nodded dumbly regardless. “Don’t just stand out in the cold, come on in.”

All three of them obeyed, collecting themselves the best they could as they entered the foyer. The home had an aged elegance to it. It was decked in royal reds and a deep shade of gold, something so large should have a cold feeling, but it had the warmth of their own home. The scent of roasted chicken and potatoes coated her lungs like a fine wine, and despite everything, made her mouth water.

“I’m Caroline, and these are my daughters, Lizzie and Josie.” She stuck out a hand “Thank you for having us over, your home is lovely.”

He accepted her gesture with both hands and let his touch linger before moving away “I’m Klaus,”

Hope’s father navigated them to a large dining room that was bigger than the second story of their own house. A stretching oak table was decorated with candles and white porcelain that had a small ring of gold around its edge. There was another fireplace, the wood crackling, and hissing as flames ate away at its edges. It filled the room with a smoky scent. Klaus offered their mother a glass of wine.

“My wife still insists on cooking,” He explained with a dazzling grin “This might help ease the pain.”

“I heard that.”

Hayley Marshall walked through a second entrance with as much elegance as her neatly printed name on the business cards they handed out. She carried a large dish of food covered with a steamed glass lid, setting it down on the edge of the table. Josie’s mouth fell a little more open before she snapped it shut. Both of them were suddenly wishing for wine.

It wasn’t until Hope joined them that Lizzie really wished for a sweet out to this dinner party. She had opted for a black jumpsuit with a plunging neckline that fell further than her own sisters. Her sleeves were cloaked and an understated silver necklace moved against her collarbone with each breath she took.

Her heart nearly stopped, Hope wouldn’t dive into the deep end of the wave pool to pull her out of this one. But Josie nudged her and the time that had dizzyingly stopped a moment ago trudged on. They all took a seat and a light conversation struck up. The Mikaelson’s had outdone themselves, Hope was right, it was the perfect distraction for them all.

“The girl’s father teaches at the university?” Hayley asked, taking a bite of parmesan encrusted green beans.

Caroline felt heat against her cheeks “He does, he’s a historian. If he wasn’t flooded with the grand opening of the low country museum he would be here. He’s positively entranced by the history of this town.”

Hope raised her dark stare across the table, letting it settle on Lizzie. The fire beyond her shoulder sparkled in a settled yellow against the green of her iris. She had a bite of chicken raised halfway to her mouth, listening to their mothers make small talk while lifting an eyebrow towards her adversary.

Lizzie could feel primal warmth against her stomach and she was sure it wasn’t the meal in front of her, or the way Josie watched the interaction carefully, her lips sealed as she took three even gulps of water from the crystal flute to her side.

“Isn’t that right, Hope?” Her father asked from the far end of the table.

She clenched her jaw and straightened up “I’m sorry?”

“We were talking about the waterpark; you enjoyed it, didn’t you?” 

“It’s a fun job, I’m certainly glad that I got the chance to meet both of your daughters.” She had gathered herself quickly and her voice dripped like warm honey slathered against freshly baked bread, Caroline was entranced by the entire family, and Hope was no different. Lizzie wondered where she got the faux charm from, but part of her knew she didn’t’ have to look far. “They’re both so kind.”

There was a quick beat of silence before her stare fixated on Lizzie once more “Speaking of, Lizzie, do you want to help me grab dessert?”

“Yeah, yes” She sounded out uneasily, folding her napkin as both her and Hope stood “I would love to.”

Lizzie knew her mother was far from dense, her eyes narrowing at the interaction. Hayley lifted her eyebrows and chewed thoughtfully on the potato she had just stabbed with the prongs of her fork. The two of them gathered their plates and walked into the kitchen. It was considerably cooler compared to the warmth of the dining room and goosebumps formed against pale skin.

The décor was white and clean and shockingly modern compared to the rest of the house. There was an apple pie teamed with nutmeg resting on the counter with a few stacked plates and a couple of forks. Hope grasped the plate from Lizzie and put it in the sink before flicking on the water at a high level.

“What are you doing?” Lizzie asked.

“Shh, you’re daft if you think my father can’t hear us.”

She frowned at the statement “He can hear us all the way from the dining room?”

“They both can. Your sister is talking about her studies this fall, early graduation” Hope furrowed her brow before refocusing “Look, we can only run the water for so long before one of them gets curious and comes after us. I swiped this from my dad this morning.”

She had fished a key from her pocket, it looked like it belonged to a lockbox but she knew that it was the pass they needed to get into his study. Hope wrapped her fingers around Lizzie’s wrist and pulled her from the kitchen into a long winding hallway towards a set of cherry wood storm doors. There were art pieces and a sculpture highlighted with gold standing in a carved out setting of the wall. She kept her eyes naively behind them, fearing being followed.

Klaus’s office smelled of bourbon and aged magic. She could feel the pure charge of the novels that lined a built-in shelf behind his desk. There was a small tray carrying a set of crystal glasses and a few cabinets. A computer sat, dimmed, and pushed to the side.

Hope made haste as she pulled her phone from her pocket and pulled open the bottom drawer. Lizzie wandered slowly into the small room and watched as Hope pulled open the first journal and snapped a few photos of names and dates before moving on to the next journal. Lizzie could feel anxiety pulling at the back of her throat.

Lizzie knelt next to her before she got to the last journal, bound in pitch. Four lines crossed each other in a star formation, carved into the leather with intricacy and a language neither of them could interpret. She could feel Hope’s breath on her cheek, hot and smelling of champagne, she turned to stare at her “I’ve seen this symbol before, in my dad’s office.”

“Shit!” Hope suddenly swallowed thickly and glanced behind her at the stretching hallway before snapping a photo of the inside cover and the front cowhide symbol. “Someone’s coming.”

The drawer was shut softly as Hope flicked the light off to the office herded the two of them back out into the hallway. Lizzie heard footfalls, heeled steps as they left the large dining room and through the kitchen. Hope stumbled with the key as she slid it into the lock. The water in the kitchen was shut off.

“This was a bad idea, we can’t go back through the kitchen.” Lizzie hissed through clenched teeth. The footsteps were heading in their direction, loud and dominating.

Hope let out a soft growl before Lizzie felt the coolness of the painted drywall against her exposed back. The painting hung to the side wobbled against its fastenings, but she didn’t care to notice that. Instead, she took attention to the way Hope’s fingers pressed into her hip in a heated display. How her other hand cupped the back of Lizzie’s neck and her lips were suddenly against hers.

She tasted like the one glass of alcohol she had and smelled like rainwater. Lizzie tensed under her touch before slowly melting into it. For a quick moment, she kept her eyes open, blinking, and unmoving before lowering them to darkness and melting underneath her. She couldn’t’ fight the moan that escaped her as Hope traced her jaw with cool fingertips.

Lizzie was seeing more than stars at this point; an entire galaxy had been mapped out in front of her.

But they broke apart at the sound of a voice clearing, Hope drawing in a sharp breath before turning to face her mother with a weak smile. Hayley had a look of amusement on her face, eyes clear as she scanned both of them. “We were wondering where the two of you had gone off to.”

Hope gulped under her mother’s stare before moving her finger against the edge of her lip to clear the smudge of crimson lipstick that had fallen out of place. “We got a little distracted. It won’t happen again, I’m sorry.”

She schooled her stance as if nothing had happened and walked back towards the kitchen, leaving Lizzie alone with a woman who had a deep yellow stare. One that she swore flashed like a reflector in the beam of golden headlights.

“Mrs. Marshall,” 

“Lizzie, after you,” She let her lead the way back to the kitchen. 

There was an eerie silence followed by the strong steps of Hayley’s heels. There was an indescribable heat that continued to flood Lizzie from the kiss, an electric charge that reminded her of the soft ground in the clearing, and the first time she had touched the journal in the attic.

The apple pie that was on the counter had moved, and so had Hope.


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Eyy, another chapter. I think this is the definition of a slow burn... anyway, I really do hope you all are being safe. The world seems to be opening back up. Which isn't the greatest thing considering after every high, is a crashing low. (Did we learn nothing from the black death??)

**Lizzie traced the** seductive hue of red that lingered against her lips with the pads of her fingers. She had seen the specific shade on the shelves of the drug store that operated next to the park, but she had never been brave enough to try it. It was easier to stick to the softer colors, ones that were less brash and complimented her skin tone.

The makeup wipe hovered in her grasp as she looked at the flakes of red. Hope had left them behind when she pressed her close to the wall in her parent’s home. Lizzie could still feel the ache in her shoulder where it caught the picture frame, and even more, she could feel the acid heat that was left against her lips.

Lizzie frowned and ran the wipe against her face to get rid of the memory from the party. There was no way she could be falling for Hope Mikaelson, of all people. She was snide and full of herself and had the advantage of her supernatural linage on her side. _That_ was the only way she could have swooped in and saved that kid. Not because Lizzie had been distracted.

It hadn’t taken her long to change into a pair of sleep shorts and a tank top that countered the slowly bubbling heat of her room. She flicked off the overhead light, leaving her in the dull golden glow of the lamp resting on her nightstand. She reached under her mattress for the journal and settled in under the duvet before turning to another page.

Lizzie had barely flipped to the correct entry before she heard the small tap on her window. The wind, she reasoned, blowing a small bug or leaf against the pane. But it almost seemed rhythmic and intentional, and eventually, after reading the same paragraph six times, she pushed the journal aside and went to the window.

A half-moon bathed the world in a dull blue hue that reminded Lizzie of the atmosphere in laser tag. The late summer night didn’t smell like cheap plastic and pungent sweat. Instead, it smelled of rain and the slight chill of fall that wouldn’t yet press itself close. Hope Mikaelson had her arm drawn back, ready to throw another stone.

Lizzie let out a slight growl and unlatched her window before pushing it open. She quickly lost her nerve at the dazzling grin that danced across the Mikaelson’s features. She had changed out of the outfit from the dinner party (thankfully) and instead sported a t-shirt with a little penguin on the breast and a pair of loose gray sweatpants splattered with paint.

“I have a phone, you know?” She said, a little above a whisper. Hope could hear her, and they both knew it.

“What’s the fun in that? Can I come up?”

“Do you need a formal invitation? You’ve already come this far.”

Hope scoffed and grabbed the bottom rungs of the lattice structure built into the side of their house. It was crawling with the same wisteria that had grown along the front of the structure. Her father thought that it would help disperse the invasive plant but instead, encouraged it.

It helped Lizzie sneak out at night, even with her mother’s super hearing, and now, it helped Hope do the opposite. She had barely broken a sweat by the time she reached the window and Lizzie took a step back to allow her in.

The wolf let out a small sigh of content before lowering the glass and getting a good look at Lizzie’s room; painted a rose pink and shrouded in natural tones, it mirrored her emotions. There was a small vanity with photos tucked into the edges- cheesy overpriced strips from the little booth at the arcade and a couple of polaroid’s from the trip they all took to the grand canyon.

She felt a strange edge of heat come to her cheeks at the modest state of her room. She had shed her dress and piled it in the corner, but if Hope noticed, she was too polite to say anything. Instead, she lifted the front of her shirt and pulled a decent pile of folded papers from the waistband.

“I printed the photos that we took tonight. I thought we could look through them.”

“Your parents aren’t worried about you sneaking out?”

The corner of her mouth lifted slightly “I told them I was going for a run to blow off some steam. Of course, my mother thinks we’re up to something. But I’d rather her believe that what we’re doing is purely for pleasure. I’m here to apologize for that, too. It was invasive, and I’m sorry.”

“It’s fine. We have to keep a cover.” Lizzie blanched before plopping down on the mattress and reaching her hand out for the stack of papers.

Hope hesitated for a moment before handing them over and pulling herself onto the bottom half of the bed. She folded her legs up and watched Lizzie carefully while she looked through the printed photo’s that were taken. Her chin rested against her knee, eyes a deep green in the golden light.

Lizzie glanced up. She hadn’t fully registered any of the words that were written in a dull cursive, even harder to decipher from being photocopied. Instead, she felt the probing stare of Hope Mikaelson. It wasn’t anything of the cruel nature, not like the kids who used to gawk at her when she got back from her trips. It was more of a captivation; a kid looking up at a rocket about to launch into the stars. Either way, it made her squirm.

“You’re not helping.”

“Sorry,” Hope frowned before she scooted forward on the bed and crossed her legs. Lizzie blinked at the movement because suddenly their knees were touching and Hope had shifted the papers from her lap. She set them aside. “I think we should try something.”

“I’m flattered, but I think I’ll wait to experiment until college.” Her cheeks flushed.

“Not what I meant, though I think we’ve already boarded that ship. We should try a spell”

Somehow that scared Lizzie more than the aforementioned imaginary sword that hung above her head. Neither of them wanted to say it and for right now, that was okay. She nodded dumbly and Hope reached for the pillow behind Lizzie. “What type of pillow is this?”

Lizzie scoffed “I don’t know, a soft one?” 

Hope rolled her eyes and grabbed both ends of the pillow before pulling it apart. A slow explosion of feathers filled the air. Hope had a wolfish grin on her face, displaying her soft strength.

“What the hell?”

“It’s worth it, trust me.” She grabbed a handful of soft down feathers and threw them in the air, evenly spreading them against the duvet until the room looked like it had been covered in snow. “Now give me your hand.”

Lizzie hesitated and earned an eye roll before Hope grasped her right hand with her own. That same envelope of warmth filled her, tingling up to her elbow and fizzling against her fingers. She stared at it for a moment before glancing up at the wolf in front of her. 

Hope reached and picked up the first feather she could find before unraveling Lizzie’s fingers and placing it in her palm. She grabbed her other hand and intertwined their fingers. “Do you feel that?”

“your hands are sweaty.”

“Lizzie,”

“Sorry” She schooled her shoulders and focused on their touch, but not too much. It was warm like a blanket had coated her veins. “Yeah, yes, I feel it.”

Hope smiled and then focused on the grays of Lizzie’s eyes, so slate they were almost ghostly. They were green in the swamp and speckled with little chips of blue. She sighed contently and closed her eyes, “Okay, I want you to focus fully on the sound of my voice.”

Lizzie glanced around her room before settling in and closing her own eyes. Hope’s breath was hot against her collarbone as she spoke. “I want you to imagine the ocean.”

“Seriously?”

“Yes, seriously. Imagine the ocean; the sand under your toes and the scent of salt. I want you to really focus on the waves.”

She found herself entranced by Hope’s voice. Her mind wandered to the summer trips her family would take to a small house in ocean city. It leads right into a canal that channeled to the sea. She and Josie always took more to the sand than the water, panting after running along the shore. They would pretend they were stranded, the only two people left in the world.

“Each time a wave comes in, I want you to try and move that energy you feel up your arm.” Lizzie clenched her eyes tighter and struggled to follow along. She could feel an overwhelming amount of power lap a little past her elbow but it faltered and flickered. “That’s good, keep trying.”

She frowned and drew in an even breath. This time, her mind wandered past the beach. It focused entirely on the way Hope’s fingers felt on hers. How they had wandered across her skin earlier that night, pressed into her hip and held her down.

The energy pulsed against the inside of her ribcage and she felt Hope let out a content sigh before she dragged her touch against the edge of the hand with the feather in it. “Good, Lizzie.” She guided her other hand, not letting up on the contact.

They were positioned for a long moment before she whispered: “Open your eyes.”

She slowly did as she was told, quickly transfixed by the feather that Hope had situated. It hovered, ever so slightly against the center of her palm. Her lips parted before she smiled brightly “Oh my god,”

Hope chuckled “That’s all you, you did it.”

Against her better judgment, Hope took in the pure joy on Lizzie’s face and sprung forward to engulf her in a hug. She stiffened under the touch- but felt Hope’s breath, hot against her cheek, and drank in the sharp scent of mint and the shampoo that was intoxicatingly sweet. "You did your first spell," 

The two of them peeled apart, Hope dragging her hands down Lizzie’s arms before they glanced around the room, mouths agape. Every white feather that had fallen to the ground floated in the air. Lifted and barely drifting back to the floor.

“Holy shit,” Lizzie whispered.

Hope smiled brightly, impressed at the snowy atmosphere around them. “All you” She repeated, touching her fingertips against one of the feathers.

“I think,” She sounded out carefully, “I think it was you too.” 

The words came out as a breathy sigh. Hope looked beautiful, entranced by the world around her. It was something so simple when she was a magic being herself. Lizzie thought that she had seen everything, traveled the world with her parents until they touched the space where the sea met the sky.

Lizzie found herself leaning forward, quietly, because she could feel the ocean rush past her ears. She vowed that she wouldn’t hesitate this time, it wouldn’t be rushed and with a purpose like it had been in the hallway. Their lips met and a spark quickly tingled against her lips. What they hadn't been willing to say before clawed at the back of her mind, begging to be set free. 

Hope whimpered into the kiss, cupping her fingers around the back of Lizzie’s neck as she pulled herself closer. It was an epiphany of energy that tasted like mint toothpaste and purity. Hope ran her tongue against the top of Lizzie’s mouth and shivered before pulling back. The feathers dropped as Lizzie stared in enamored awe.

“Sorry… that was,” Hope wiped the side of her mouth and sat back breathlessly, grasping at the papers before squinting at them “We should probably get focused on reading these.”

“Yeah, okay.” Lizzie’s cheeks were hot and the stars still danced around her head, but she found herself picking up the nearest one and running her fingers over the words as if they would actually indent the page. 

Hope cleared her throat “Okay, so there are four founding families; The Gilberts, The Fells, The Lockwood’s, and obviously the Parkers. We thankfully have Faith’s full journal, but each of these entries don’t give us much of an idea as to why they were even kept in the first place.”

“That same symbol is scribbled on every page. It has to mean something, no one in this town does anything without intention.”

The statement hung in the air, and those same darkened eyes snapped up to Lizzie. She found herself making a little indent in the paper. She was talking about the ancestors and their choices, not her own. That’s exactly what it was.

“You said your father has one in his office at the university?”

“That’s right.”

“Then we should go there tomorrow. Together.”

“It’s a school night,” Lizzie argued.

She didn’t want to speak to her father about this, about any history really. He would catch the apprehension in her voice in a moment and speak to Caroline about her slowly breaking down due to the stress of a summer job and the upcoming year. But then Hope took her hand carefully and gave it a reassuring squeeze.

“All the more reason for us to get this done,” Her eyes crinkled when she smiled “I’ll even do the proper thing and take you to dinner afterward.”

Well, how could Lizzie object to that?


	10. Chapter 10

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys, Sorry for the hiatus. I work in health care so this pandemic is... well it's absolutely horrible and the only thing I wish I had right now Is hazard pay. Sorry for the horrible filler chapter!

**She had barely** stirred from a peaceful sleep before realizing that she wasn’t alone. There was a sweetness to the air accompanied by a strong and unwavering hand against her stomach. Lizzie was on her back- and she opened her eyes ever so carefully to the cream painted ceiling decorated with a fan that shifted from the light summer breeze moving through the propped window. 

She was lying on a few crumpled papers, one arm hanging from the side of the bed. She remembers reading through even more of the journals and underlining the names and places that stuck out to the two of them. She doesn’t recall her eyes getting heavy, or when she drifted off. Nor did the neon red numbers flashing on her alarm clock stick out to her.

Hope ran naturally hot. Even through her t-shirt and sweatpants, she could feel every inch of the girl pressed against her, breath short and sleepy as it pushed close to her collarbone. It had grown cold sometime in the night and Lizzie found herself wishing that she could pull the girl closer without disturbing anything about this moment.

“Are you watching me sleep?” Hope hummed against her skin.

Lizzie frowned “What? No.”

“mm, what time is it?”

She didn’t’ know, and didn’t’ want to crane her neck to find out- because, despite every annoying part of Hope, Lizzie Saltzman could see herself laying like this forever. Maybe it had been the way her skin tingled against Hope’s, or the way her hands smelled of metal and breath sparkled with vanilla, even now. But it made her ache, made her whole body vibrate with energy.

That scared Lizzie, she decided as she pulled herself up to a sitting position and looked at the clock “A little past eight, my father has a break between classes at ten.”

Hope stretched and let out a small noise that was akin to a yawn of satisfaction. Her sweatshirt rode up in the slightest bit and Lizzie pretended not to notice how dry it made her throat feel. Like sandpaper.

“I didn’t mean to sleep here, I’m sorry.”

“You need to stop doing that.”

“Yawning?”

“No, apologizing. Look, I have to take a shower to at least feel somewhat presentable. I can sneak you up a waffle or something without my mom being too suspicious.”

Hope contemplated her options, and Lizzie figured that she probably had fancier breakfasts in that castle of hers. Piping hot oatmeal filled with brown sugar and chopped strawberries from a home-grown garden. Not a freezer-burned pastry without any syrup because Josie liked to drown out the taste of ice in maple.

“Yeah, that would be great, thank you.” Hope settled with an annoyingly content smile on her face that made Lizzie want to grab her a handful of Wheaties instead. 

Hope ended up taking the long way back to her car, climbing back down the lattice pattern and landing with the grace of a supernatural being, stomach filled with frozen pastries and a cup of coffee that ended up being smuggled.

Lizzie took the safer route, padding down the stairs just in time to tell her mother that she was heading out to have lunch with a few people from the park. Caroline didn’t’ question her, an exhausted look on her face from the dinner party, and a hung-over Josie that had downed more than her fair share of champagne.

She slid into the passenger seat of Hope’s car with ease, the leather cool as it brushed close to her bare skin. Hope had the windows cracked, and the air on. It created a sharp contrast against Lizzie’s skin, but not in a cool way. Instead, it felt like summer and smelled of roses.

She blinked at herself in the side mirror, watching her reflection get muddied by the clouds in the stark blue sky; Lizzie needed to clear her head. She was never one to notice the small things of life, and certainly not the small things that Hope did.

The girl would bite the inside of her lip and run her thumb over the ribs of the steering wheel. At dinner the other night she had opted for tracing the silver edge of the fork and then when that was gone, the indents on the crystal glass. Lizzie figured it was a nervous habit, and she figured even more that she was going absolutely insane thinking about it.

“Are you feeling okay?” Hope asked tenderly, pulling her stare off the freeway, if only for a moment. 

“I’m fine.” Her voice was harsh and defensive, earning a half-hearted shrug, so she lowered her own shoulders and sighed. “I’m not exactly the closest to my father. He loves Josie and me a lot, too much maybe. He’s a very protective man.”

“You’re afraid he’s going to be suspicious?”

Lizzie nodded and stared back out of the passenger side window “I think he’s going to ask questions about why we are. I don’t think we can get away with school being an excuse.”

“maybe we should tell him the truth. He’s a historian, right? I feel like he would know more about this stuff then we could ever dig up in the library.”

“He does, but he’ll go running to my mom the second he catches something wrong. So we have to be strategic about all of this.”

Hope ran the pad of her thumb over the wheel again and Lizzie knew that was he cue to stay quiet. The hum of the engine dominated her senses and she paid attention to the road signs that signaled their growing closeness to the university.

The day was seasonably warm and her legs ached when Hope settled in a lot far away from the chance of parking tickets. Lizzie felt out of place, like a kid on bring your daughter to work day. But Hope walked with a purpose, nonchalantly following the map she had downloaded on her phone.

Lizzie trailed behind with her hands shoved in her overalls. “We’re early, he’s still in class.”

“Want to sit in on his lecture?” Hope asked a devilish look in her eyes “I could stand to learn a few things about… what era is he into?”

“Not an era, a group of people living in Mystic Falls in the 10th century. The man can drone one and on about them for hours. They gave him a whole course of sub-study and tenure here because of it.”

Hope nodded and stopped in front of a large stone building. The red brick popped against the freshly mowed lawn, seeping with the scent of summer. There was a deep brass plaque that read: _Bennett Historical Building._

Lizzie had been to her father’s office many times: it was shrouded in forest green and large bookshelves packed with leather-bound books. He had a small light next to a spotted maroon sofa that she would often curl up on and read. But she had never seen him teach aside from old videotapes that he recorded for his thesis.

“We can sit in the back of the auditorium,” Lizzie said taking a few of the cement steps up into the building. It was an instant wash of cold and they once again wandered aimlessly through the hallways until Hope ran into the nearest person.

He had a royal blue hat on and a thick pair of sunglasses to mask his hangover. She purposely shoved her shoulder into his and instantly apologized. “Oh my god, I’m so sorry. Shit, I’m a total klutz.”

“No worries dude.” The man frowned cupping the back of his neck while he studied her through the dark frames “Can I help you find anything? You look a little lost.”

“Yes, actually, we’re looking for Doctor Saltzman’s class. We just transferred in and the admissions office was absolutely no help.” Lizzie took over.

“He’s on the first floor, way down at the end of this corridor. Last room on the left, you can hear his voice for miles- you can’t miss it.”

They thanked him and let him nurse the rest of his hangover before following his vague instructions. Lizzie felt a jolt of nerves against the inside of her stomach when the shorter girl reached for the door to the auditorium. It was shockingly silent when it pushed open, no one turning towards them.

The room was large enough to mask their entry almost entirely as they slid into the two back seats in the last row. Lizzie’s father had her back towards them, his voice muffled as he moved a small piece of chalk against the green backdrop.

“1492,” He dropped the chalk into the small metal holder and finally turned to face the class. “I want all of you to memorize that date. Know it like the back of your hand because it’s going to be on every single test and assignment in this class.”

Lizzie had never heard her father mention the date before, but he put weight in his words and leaned against the podium at the front of the room. “The clan of Nordic people who took residence in Mystic Falls had a series of animal attacks that spurred a long history of unexplained deaths. People completely drained of blood, men ripped limb from limb until they were unrecognizable. All linked back to this one group of people that settled right here.”

“Occult studies?” Hope whispered, her breath hot on the side of Lizzie’s face. The girl felt goosebumps raise close to her skin, rubbing her fingers on her arm. “I thought he was a historian.”

“He is.”

But Lizzie wasn’t so sure anymore; she had never listened to him drone on and that was pretty apparent by how bored she was now. She only felt that familiar jolt of fear when he lifted his gaze to the back row and their eyes met.

He cleared his throat and averted his stare, visibly thrown “The locals of Mystic Falls have stopped questioning their horrid history and have turned it into a best-kept secret. Too many hikers that go missing, too many teenagers mutilated in their cars.” Alaric paused and pushed the pads of his fingers into the podium once more. “Alright, I’m cutting the lecture short today. We’ll pick up where we left off on Wednesday.”

The students around them didn’t waste much time gathering their things and rushing from the auditorium. Alaric shouted at them to check their syllabus, but he kept his harsh gaze on his daughter. Lizzie wanted to shrink into dust and Hope matched the man’s valor. He waited until everyone was gone.

“What are you doing here?” He asked, voice echoing against the vast desolation.

“Am I not allowed to visit my own dad at work?” She asked.

He wasn’t buying it, nor was he deterred by the underlying sarcasm in her voice. She stood and walked down the stinted steps until her feet were on carpet. Hope lingered on the stair behind her, fingers tracing the metal railing.

“I don’t think we’ve had the pleasure of meeting,” Alaric said, directing his attention towards her.

“We haven’t. I’m Hope Mikaelson.” She responded with a nod.

“Mikaelson?”

Lizzie noticed the way her father’s brow creased, how he ran the pads of his rough fingers over the tweed of his jacket, how he straightened his stance. It was the same behavior he made all of them exhibit at a museum or a historical site. It was nothing short of intrigue.

Hope seemed to notice the change in demeanor too. “My parents own the public art gallery downtown.”

“I know who they are. Maybe we should continue this conversation in my office.”

If Lizzie was wishing for any type of dynamic change in her father’s quarters, this wasn’t it. It was dark and cool from drawn blinds barely letting in a stream of light. There were vast shelves with a few books he had written himself hidden between those lesser-known. She had taken to scanning the literature as her father lowered himself into his chair. Hope took the one opposite of his. 

“Your family has been in Mystic Falls for a long time, Hope.”

“That’s what we were hoping to ask you about.” She reached into her jacket pocket and rummaged around for the printed photo of the symbol that had been burned into their minds. She had folded it every which way but tried to work out the creases before sliding it across the desk.

Alaric took the paper and tightened his grip around it, he leaned forward in his old chair and it groaned in a trivial response. Lizzie focused her attention on the reaction and stiffened.

“Where did you find this?” He asked, voice gravelly. Neither of them answered, so he raised his eyes “Elizabeth?”

“The library, we’ve been doing research on our family trees. Piecing them together.” She lied easily. 

“Why would you do that?”

Lizzie watched him as if he had grown a second head; maybe a long tail complete with oozing green spines and jagged teeth. Her hands had started sweating and they left slick marks against the corner of the table as she leaned forward. She felt Hope’s eyes, her energy.

“You’ve always wanted to protect us, Josie and I. To cut up our meat and make us wear sunscreen. You’re my father, it’s your job and I know that- but there are some things, dad, some things that stop being protective and start being secretive. I want to know who we are. Who we really are.” She pointed to the paper with the intricate leather carving. “What does it mean?”

“I don’t know.”

“You don’t know, or you know and don’t want to say?”

He blinked at her then folding up the paper and sliding it back across the desk. Hope didn’t reach for it, her own gaze alternating between the professor and his daughter. “Stop asking questions you don’t fully realize the answer to, Elizabeth.”

“That’s it, then?” She asked, standing from her leaning position on the desk, voice fierce “You’re going to deny me everything? Every answer we’re searching for?”

She hadn’t noticed Hope standing behind her, her musky scent and fingers running small circles against her own. The instant buzz of magic and the quiet that soon followed her mind afterward. Her father could have been tied down and tortured, yet still, nothing was leaving his lips.

“Go home, Lizzie. Before I call your mother.”

“Oh, real mature, dad.”

Lizzie pulled herself away from the stuffy office and the crisp scent of bourbon. The early morning light was brash against her skin, her stomach churning and throat tightening as if she had been stuck at the very top of a Ferris Wheel, feeling the chilling wind. She walked without any real direction to the car until she felt Hope’s hand on her shoulder, pulling her around.

“Lizzie-“

“No, no. Fuck him.” She growled, not truly hearing her. “He’s never told us the truth about anything, not once. And I was always happy with that because not knowing is better than knowing sometimes- And that symbol might have something to do with my birth mother. He’s selfish for lying to me like that! This was a complete waste of time, and now I’m going to get grounded for fucking life!”

She didn’t’ take a breath between her words; Hope was gentle with her motions reaching her hand up and cupping the side of Lizzie’s face, drawing her attention but not her anger. “Hey, I wouldn’t say it was a complete waste of time.”

Lizzie frowned, shuddering at the girl moved her fingers against her collarbone and then away entirely as she drew a small manila card from her pocket; there was a little runic symbol against the corner that looked to be in the same style as the one they carried around.

“Who the fuck is Meredith Fell?”

Hope beamed, wolfish “She is an occult studies professor at USC. I found her card on your father’s desk next to a bunch of messages from her. Seems like she’s been searching for the same thing we’ve been.”

Lizzie let out a pained breath, her shoulders slumping “What makes you think she’d be willing to help us?”

“Well, she’s a woman so, we’ve already got an advantage.”


End file.
